The Eternal Victor
by Zayad
Summary: The Persian Pantheon is at its end. All Persian demigods but one have been killed by the self-proclaimed "God-King" Xerxes. Now, Perseus, the last demigod, and the last of any who have ties to the Persian Pantheon is on his own. The first being who is truly free from anything including Fate itself. What will he do? Only time may tell. AU.
1. An Introduction to Victory

~A70 Ch1~

Persia

"Tonight, we feast! And tomorrow, we march! For Xerxes, God-King of Persia!" The Herald declared to the gathered armies of Persia.

The armies cheered, banging whatever weapons they possessed on their shields. Every time they were summoned, they were required to wear full battle armor. It wouldn't have been unreasonable to think that they only reason they cheered was to get out of the sweltering sweat.

Not even Generals of the standing Persian Army were spared. On top of their scale armor, they were expected to wear regalia of the finest caliber. Wearing suffocating, heavy armor and finery in the desert heat of Persia was not the most rewarding of experiences.

Perseus, a well-respected General, shifted uncomfortably in his standing position. He hated these ridiculous announcements of future conquests. The self proclaimed "God-King" hadn't even bothered to show up to rouse the moral of the troops. The arrogant idiot.

Perseus sighed as the Xerxes's Royal Strategist beckoned to the Generals. Now he would have to endure hours of useless talking followed by the final wrap-up of strategy talk. Perseus's green eyes flickered towards the cloudless sky. Unless...

Perseus closed his eyes. All he could see was darkness. Then, ten circles appeared, each the size of a medium sized plate. Inscribed on all ten were different designs representing a different aspect of his power.

One circle began flickering with light, slowly glowing steadier as Perseus concentrated harder. Finally, the circle ceased flickering and began glowing with light. The power had been activated.

"I invoke the winds. Allow me to command a fierce wind to cease my punishment before it begins," Perseus whispered so as not to alert his fellow Generals of his celestial might.

For the first time that year, clouds began rolling in to their area. He couldn't make it rain, that domain belonged to Anahita, goddess of water, but moving the clouds was enough of a symbol.

Everyone had noticed the gathering clouds and quieted. It was a rare sight to see anything remotely related to water in the arid desert.

"See the clouds? Anahita herself has blessed us on our journey! Let us celebrate!" The Herald crowed in delight. The armies banged their weapons on their shields.

Perseus's nostrils flared as he held back a smile. Whoops. He had meant to save himself from punishment not imitate a goddess. Even weakened, she was a powerful force not to be trifled with.

Perseus allowed a breath of air to escape him as his thoughts turned towards the gods. The decline of the first Persian Empire coupled with the prominence of Zoroastrianism had taken its toll on the Persian Pantheon.

Zoroastrianism had given Ahura Mazda, god of creation, the powers of all the other gods in the pantheon. The collapse of the pantheon was inevitable. The only question was when it would happen. One god given the powers of all would soon cease to exist. There was a reason why there was more than one god.

Perseus turned to leave the pedestal. They had all been dismissed by the Herald and he had managed to avoid being stopped by the Royal Strategist.

The tall half-blood already knew his part in the war. He would be the overall commander starting with Thermopylae and continuing until all of Greece decided to bow down to their overwhelming superiority. At least, that was Xerxes's plan.

Perseus believed it to be a foolish plan. He should crush all resistance not foolishly wait on the surrender of the Greeks. Perseus shook his head; he supposed it was okay for the God-King to be foolish, after all, there was only one lifetime to be so.

The tent Perseus called home for the time being was small compared to the tents of his fellow Generals. It was adorned simply; he preferred practicality and weightlessness over finery and heaviness. Nothing was inside except for a cotton mat long enough to hold him and thick enough for him to not feel the floor. He would have just used the may but his lieutenants believed that he should have some sort of way to distinguish himself from the men he commanded.

Perseus unstrapped the greenish-blue cape from his shoulders, dropping it to the ground. Then, he proceeded to unbuckle all his armor and place it neatly on the ground. Capes didn't save lives, that he knew of, but armor did which is why he treated it better.

Just as Perseus was about to lay down his sword, he felt a presence behind him so he did the natural thing. Perseus drew his sword and spun, crashing his steel sword on that of a god's.

Perseus looked up and chuckled before putting his sword back in its scabbard and stood up.

"Welcome to the greatest regiment of the Persian Army, recruit. If you're looking to sign up under the glorious leadership of King Xerxes, a tent somewhere east of here will take your information," Perseus said smilingly.

"Ha! A recruit? You forget yourself in the presence of a more powerful being. Do you need a reminder of who is more powerful?" The tall immortal never once let down his guard, not even with his only son.

Perseus grinned, "Peace be with you, father of mine. I am not like those godlings of Greece who would overthrow their own fathers for possession of the world. If, by any chance, they happen to exist, that is."

"Have you no chairs, son? My heir should have more than some simply cotton bed in his own home!" The immortal waved a hand and a chair appeared that he sat upon.

Perseus's expression now turned serious. There were few reasons as to why one of the last remaining gods of the Persian Pantheon would come to visit him. "What news, father?"

"This attempt to conquer Greece will not succeed in restoring the Pantheon. The damage from Zoroastrianism is done. The gods will all continue on their path to fading," Perseus's father replied.

Perseus crossed his arms and sighed. He had been expecting this, yes, but to hear a god as mighty as his own father utter his worst fears was horrendous.

His father continued, "Xerxes has used his elite troop to eliminate all threats to his throne. That includes the children of the gods. Congratulations, Perseus, you are the last remaining child of a god in all of Persia."

Perseus snorted his amusement before adopting a grave expression, "And what of Azhi Dahaka, the legendary creature who is fated to break free at the world's end? Surely the end of the Persian Pantheon is enough of an ending to rouse him from his slumber?"

Perseus's father laughed uproariously, nearly causing nearby soldiers to come check in on their General, "Ah, son. I had forgotten how young you truly are. Your serious yet foolish demeanor forces me to recall your young age. Perseus, has it not occurred to you that Persia is merely a piece of land not the world? Azhi Dahaka is fated to break free at the end of the world. Our declining reign is not the end of the world. There are other people- other gods who exist in this realm. They will long be here after my time has come."

Perseus rolled his eyes, "Honest mistake."

Perseus's father stood up from his chair, "As soon as you leave this land, the last of us, Anahita, Mithras, Ahura Mazda, and I will fade."

"Do you wish for me to stay?"

"No. We would eventually fade even if you were to remain. Leave this failing land, child of mine. Perhaps in Greece you may live a fuller life. This will sound peculiar coming from me however, war and battle are not the only things to enjoy in life," Perseus's father was adamant in what he said. Towards the end of his existence in this world, he had found love, and that had made a difference in his life, no matter how short of a life he had left.

"Are you saying I should abandon the army?" Perseus asked.

"I am only saying that there is more to life than war," His father told him a second time.

"I am sure in the future, there will be a word to depict this scene," Perseus smiled.

"Now then, Perseus. I must take my leave. I wish to visit your mother's grave before I cease to exist. It was good to see you one final time," Perseus's father made the chair disappear.

"I will honor you, father. In any battle, my battle cry will be your name," Perseus said.

"It appears I have a fool for a son. Have I not told you twice that war is not everything? If you wish to honor me, honor me by living a great life," The immortal answered.

The god lifted his hand and put a finger to his child's forehead, "To you, I gift the remainder of my powers. Use them wisely."

Without another word, one of the most powerful beings in all creation disappeared from sight.

"The world is a more difficult place with you gone...Verethragna, god of victory," Perseus whispered to the empty tent. A tear slid down his cheek. It would be a long time before he would see his father again.

As his Lieutenants entered his tent, Perseus wiped the sole tear from his face. It wouldn't end well for him if a General was caught showing a sign of weakness.

"Come, Lieutenants. I believe we have many inspections to conduct before Mithras sets in the sky," Perseus commanded, "let us go."

As Perseus stepped outside his tent, he used his power over the winds to blow the clouds away from their camp. The light from the sun shined brightly from the east.

In his heart, Perseus knew one thing. It was going to be a long day.

~A70 Ch1~


	2. Of War and Wisdom

~A70 Ch2~

As with all downfalls, there are drawbacks. Perseus did not speak from experience, he was only twenty-two after all, but even he knew that the fall of the Persian Pantheon would have extreme consequences.

And he was right.

They had been sailing for two weeks now, having been sailing with the main fleet for a while before planning to break off to engage the Greeks on land. Fortunately, they had encountered few storms, all of them minor in power. Unfortunately, they had lost a couple ships to each storm.

Perseus and the Persian Army could no longer rely upon the protection of their gods. They were truly at the mercy of these foreign gods whose homeland they had come to invade. Not that anyone but Perseus knew that their gods had faded.

"Oh Anahita, goddess of water, hear my plea. We beg of you to protect us from the wrath of the foreign, upstart god, Poseidon," One man intoned on behalf of all the soldiers and crewman on the ship.

"Mithras, god of light and protector of contracts, illuminate a safe passage so that we may lose no more men to these ferocious seas and bitter winds," Another man pleaded.

"Verethragna, god of victory! Be with us in our battles and grant us victory so that we may live to a ripe old age and live to see our children's children!" Yet a third begged.

Perseus snorted his amusement at all their begging. When faced with disasters and certain doom, men would suddenly become holy men. A shame their gods could no longer help them.

A ten foot wave suddenly rose up several hundred feet from Perseus's ship. If it continued on its course, it would ultimately swamp the deck of his ship.

Perseus sighed. Keeping his ship from sinking was a never-ending task. Water would come and his men would attempt to bucket out the water. Water would come aboard his ship again and his men would bucket it out. Thrice more. Indeed a never-ending process.

Perseus spat out the seawater that had entered his mouth when the wave had hit. Persian triremes were light and fast. As a result, they were smaller which is why there was not much room to stand in let alone walk. Which was why Perseus stood at the bow of the ship.

A glance to his right, the west, showed him a strip of coastline. The coast in which the Persian Army would land to ultimately engage the Greek Army. With Perseus to guide them, victory was all but certain. Of course, it helped that he led a contingent of over a hundred thousand men.

However, Perseus was not a General for no reason. He knew the consequences of underestimating the enemy. Defeat. It was the reason why he had intently studied the culture and military of the two greatest Greek city-states, Athens and Sparta.

Without a doubt, Athens was the more intelligent of the two city-states. Culturally, they were the most advanced society in the world. They were a democratic society- the first in the world.

In retrospect, however, their democracy was also a weakness. It took time to gather the votes of each person and tallying the counts of the final decision for each and every argument. Time was not something they would have in the coming war.

Sparta was the fiercer of the two city-states. Their men began training since a prepubescent age. Versatile warriors, they were disciplined in formations and were capable of switching tactics on a dime. Athenian warriors excelled in combat but paled in comparison to the might of Sparta.

Sparta's oligarchy allowed it to make swift, decisive judgements in terms of army movements. Its current weakness was its emphasis on brawn over brains and following tradition. Perseus was all for tradition; he quite liked celebrating traditional festivals.

Perseus's grin made him look maniacal in the bright sunlight. Xerxes was intelligent enough to begin an assault during a Spartan festival. Throughout the festival, the Spartan oligarchy would refuse to move any troops. A clever strategy though Perseus was somewhat saddened that he wouldn't be able to face the mighty warrior race in combat.

"General Perseus," His First Lieutenant called to him. He was a capable warrior and had a good sense for combat. Unfortunately, the man had yet to see battle.

Perseus acknowledged him with a nod.

"The land bound ships are getting ready to change course to the west," The First Lieutenant told his General.

"Make it so, Lieutenant. Tell the captain to change our course west," Perseus responded.

The First Lieutenant rushed off as quick as he could in the cramped ship to tell the captain of the new orders.

Perseus looked up to the sun. It was high noon. They were making excellent progress for the day. With any luck, they would reach the battle field by nightfall.

...

Olympus, Home of the Greek Gods

"ATHENA!" The roar of the god of war echoed throughout the entire mountain.

Athena's grey eyes flashed dangerously at the war god, "Do not raise your voice to me, Ares. It is not my fault that your Spartans refuse to move their armies because of their silly festival of Carneia."

Ares and Athena were upon their respective thrones, alone in the throne room. Ares would call the conversation they were having a war of words. Athena would define it as a heated discussion. Either way, Ares was furious.

"Your plan will lead to defeat! Defend both Thermopylae and the Cape of Artemisium? Even with Sparta's might and ferocity, our manpower is inferior," Ares settled for glaring at the goddess of wisdom with his fiery eyes.

"Have you forgotten the rest of the Olympians so quickly, war god? Zeus will destroy the enemy ships with his powerful storms as will Poseidon with his power over the seas," Athena countered.

Ares smirked; he loved it when he could upstage Athena, "Have you forgotten the laws Zeus has laid down, _woman_?! Gods may not interfere in the affairs of mere mortals!"

Athena grimaced as if she had been struck by a physical blow. That was the only part of her plan that was rough around the edges. "The Persian invasion threatens all of Greece. I doubt that Zeus will sit by idly and allow the land he rules to fall to foreigners. I will convince Zeus. This first battle is the most crucial."

"Hope that we win this battle, _goddess_. If we don't, I will personally enter the battle and ravage these Persians until not a single one remains in Greece," Ares growled at Athena before flashing out of the throne room.

Athena attempted to pierce the center of the throne room with her grey eyes. She failed. Athena sighed as she thought of the grand argument she would have to present to merit divine intervention. It would be logical, obviously, but her father would try to mitigate the amount of interference they could give to the Greeks.

And Poseidon?

Damn him.

...

Later on Olympus...

The throne room of the Olympians quivered before the power that Poseidon unleashed an earthquake that could be felt for kilometers.

"How dare you suggest that I do not care for Greece, _Athena_. To imply that I am a traitorous god?! Who do you think has been delaying the Persian ships? Not you, _oh great goddess of intellect_. I cannot directly destroy them because of your father's life so if you wish to blame someone, BLAME ZEUS!" Poseidon took a deep breath to calm himself down before he shattered the entire mountain.

"Blame me, Poseidon? If there are no rules in place, the world would become chaotic. Is that what you wish for, brother? A world with no rules? Where gods may create havoc and misery for all? Where you can create a watery tomb for this world? I think not, Poseidon!" Zeus countered swiftly, logically, and just as loudly as his brother.

Before Poseidon could speak, he was cut off by Athena, "In any case, father, will you not agree to interfering with the mortals this one time? This first battle is crucial and we have limited options because we are defending Greece. Progress could come to an end should the Persian succeed in conquering our land. We, too, could come to an end. Persians do not believe we exist and if they should conquer Greece, we too, may cease to end because of a lack of faith."

The rest of the council looked bored. Athena had defeated the Persians with warriors from her patron city once at Marathon. They were sure she could succeed a second time.

"Very well. Poseidon and I will conjure storms for the duration of this battle but that is it. No one else may interfere," Zeus looked unforgivingly at Athena.

Athena supposed she had been glared at because they had spent the last hours of daylight arguing over whether or not to interfere in the battle which was time that could have been spent whoring among mortal women.

She tried to argue, "But-"

"My word is law!" thundered Zeus before disappearing in a bolt of lightning.

One by one, the Olympians flashed out until only Ares and Athena remained.

"You had better hope that this plan of yours works, goddess, or you will be the first to feel my wrath. It is your Athenians that refuse to provide reinforcements for my Spartans," Ares snarled before flashing out.

Athena also hoped that her plans would work. She had no intention of fading this early in her relatively short lifespan. She flashed out of the throne room, mentally and meticulously going through her plans for any flaw.

As with all plans, there was a degree of uncertainty that no one could ever control no matter how much they attempted to. In this case, the independent variable was one man.

Perseus.

~A70 Ch2~


	3. A Prelude to Battle

~A70 Ch3~

The prelude to battle was the stormy, encroaching darkness. It was an ominous omen that left the majority of Perseus's men praying to their gods. Holy men yet again.

Perseus eyed the sea. It was more turbulent than it had been in recent weeks. Most likely, the sea god of this region had finally decided to strength his storms. Perseus felt pity for the Persian warships at sea.

Lightning cackled and thunder boomed across the sky. Hidden within the relentless sound of thunder was the cheering of the enemy army two kilometers across from their own position. It appeared that their gods had answered their pleas for assistance.

The only men still awake were Perseus and the guards. The guards were awake to make sure that they weren't attacked during the night. Perseus was always like this before a battle. He would always stay up late before a battle. It was an unhealthy yet strangely peaceful habit of his. It was going to be a long night.

...

Dawn, the following day

It was hot. Apollo hadn't neglected a single spot in his mission to bake the earth. Perseus shook his head. He was beginning to think liked a damned Greek thanks to all the information he had gathered about Greece.

His army was in classic formation, fully armored in whatever they had managed to buy for themselves. Classic Persian formation consisted of one thousand men in a single regiment also known as a _hazarabam_. _Spearbara_ or spearman led the regiment, protecting the most valuable unit, archers, with their animal hide or wicker shields.

Archers were the main attackers in the Persian Army. They would hide behind the _spearbara_ and shoot, inflicting massive damage as a group to enemy armies. Persian archers also carried daggers or short swords in case they were forced into close combat.

The last unit that rounded out the Persian Army were the horsemen. They wore full armor typically made of iron. Iron was slightly weaker than fire tempered bronze but far stronger than ordinary bronze. The horseman employed shock attacks to startle the enemy army. It had been a hassle to convince the horses to board the ships and even more so when they had lost many to the storms that plagued their journey.

As a General, Perseus was not expendable. The royal coffers paid for anything Perseus required. He wore a flexible, light piece of leather body armor. It was custom made because he was a head and a half taller than the average man. Perseus's unique fighting style employed a perfect mixture of agility, strength, and skill to combat his opponents.

Perseus wore bronze vambraces, a useful piece of armor to counter sword slashes in case he ever found himself without a sword. His sword, a little over a meter in length, was made of fire tempered bronze, the hardest metal known to man. He kept his sword on his left side for an easier draw. He carried two bronze daggers, one in each vambrace, in case he had to deal with a long distance opponent. Perseus also wore a leather cap. In the deserts of Persia, it would have served to keep the sand out of his eyes. In this foreign land, it served to keep the light out of his eyes.

Perseus had honed many skills ever since he had joined the army at the age of thirteen. As a child of the god of victory, he quickly excelled in whatever aspect of combat he had trained in. Swordsmanship, hand-to-hand combat, hand-to-sword combat, knife throwing, spear wielding, and archery. The only reason why he didn't wield a spear or use a bow was because of his status. Anyone could die at the front lines in an instant which is why Generals were never allowed in the front at the beginning of a battle. Use a bow for too much time and his troops might think he was a coward because he spent all the time hiding behind allied lines. Military politics were ridiculously confusing. Perseus just wanted to fight.

"Raise the flag," Perseus commanded.

The flag bearers hoisted the flag to the top of the pole. The flag itself was made of white cotton and depicted an olive branch. A meeting of the army commanders under a sign of peace.

In response to the hoisting of the flag, the Greeks also raised a flag bearing the same illustration.

"First Lieutenant with me," Perseus called. The Lieutenant hastened to obey.

In the center of the future battlefield, the General of the Persian Army and the King of Sparta, commander of all Greek forces met for the first time. The latter was as tall as Perseus and radiated an inner strength that made the First Lieutenant quiver in awe. Perseus was delighted to meet such a powerful opponent. Defeating him would be an honor.

Perseus raised an eyebrow at the three people the commander had brought with him but said nothing.

"I am Leonidas, descendant of Heracles, King of Sparta, and commander of this army," the man blue eyed man announced, waving a hand to several thousand men behind him. Leonidas was a man in his late fifties with graying hair and a full beard colored salt and pepper.

Thankfully, Perseus had actually bothered to learn Greek and responded in kind.

"I am Perseus, a lord of Persia and General of this Persian Army," Perseus neglected to mention that he was a son of Verethragna because if he had, the Lieutenant would report back to the King's brothers, Abrocomes and Hyperanthes, that he was the child of a god. They would then use that as an excuse to put him to death. Xerxes hated demigods with a passion.

"Well? Have you come to surrender to us, child?" Leonidas asked.

"Humph. Not likely, King Leonidas. I have come to ask for your own surrender," Perseus crossed his arms, waiting for the king to reply.

"I am a Spartan, _boy_. We Spartans will never yield to an opponent," Leonidas's companions, seemingly Spartans, nodded their agreement.

"Who is that?" Leonidas nodded to a figure that approached the group.

The rest of the Spartans, fearing some sort of deceit, quickly drew their weapons. The elderly yet vital commander held up a hand as the man finally reached the group.

It turned out to be Abrocomes, a brother to Xerxes who lorded his royal status over his underlings and peers alike. A capable warrior but a prideful man who enjoyed ordering men around but refused to be ordered or be disobeyed.

"Why are you here, Abrocomes?" Perseus asked. He detested this man who treated everyone like cow droppings.

"An order from King Xerxes," Abrocomes replied smugly, "He has commanded that we wait four days before engaging the Greeks."

Perseus groaned internally. Four entire days without seeing combat? He had already spent weeks without battling or sparring and now he had to wait another four days? Ahura Mazda be damned if he was going to wait so patiently while there were enemies no more than a kilometer away. He had already stayed up half the night too in anticipation for this battle!

Perseus let out a breath of air as he overcame his inborn impatient, bloodthirsty nature. He had trained all his life, hadn't he? He should have suppressed those thoughts before it had even occurred. Besides, many men on both sides of the battle would die. Everyone deserved to enjoy some peace before they died in a war they most likely want to avoid.

"Four days, King Leonidas. You have four days to come to your senses and surrender otherwise the consequences will be severe," Leonidas caught Perseus rolling his eyes as he said these words. They both had a small smile on their face as they shared the same thought.

It was ridiculous to even think that the Greeks would surrender. They hadn't in the first Greco-Persian War, they would not now.

"Come along Lieutenant, Abrocomes. I believe we have extra time now to refine our strategies," Perseus's tone left no room for argument. If he was going to suffer, he damned well would make everyone else suffer along with him.

King Leonidas eyed the retreating figure of Perseus. The raven haired youth was an odd one to be sure. He was obviously skilled to become the General of an army but Leonidas had sensed the disappointment when Abrocomes had announced they would not engage in battle this day. A battle crazed man who was so eager to fight, he had been patient enough to learn the language of the land if with a slight accent.

Leonidas decided that he would enjoy killing the Persian.

The four days were throughly enjoyed by all the men on both sides of a was ugly and to be used only to decide the greatest of conflicts. Greeks and Persians would die willingly for their homeland but none of them had a wish to die.

Unfortunately, war was inevitable.

~A70 Ch3~


	4. A Strike of Swords

~A70 Ch4~

It was now the fifth day since the Persians had arrived in this foreign, peculiar land. The peaceful days had crawled slowly for the battle crazed General. He had had to deal with his least favorite royal member for days, constantly suppressing the urge to plant a foot up Abrocomes's royal ass.

It was an hour until high noon so Perseus was still allowed to survey the battlefield. The plain in which they would be fighting in was hardly more than a hundred meters. Perseus, while relishing the chance to fight, found it foolish to directly engage an enemy when they could be easily bypassed. The Persians could effortlessly conquer several strategically important cities before the Greek army could catch up. There were other ways to get into the southern mainland of Greece other than Thermopylae.

Perseus shook his head as he surveyed the near barren plain. He was a General, yes, but he also loved fighting. If that idiot king Xerxes wanted them to fight, so be it. Perseus had thought to thank the Persian king before he had remembered that the God-King had had his fellow half-bloods killed.

Two men approached him so he said, "Raise the olive branch flag."

Soon it was raised and Perseus called to two men, "First Lieutenant, with me. Abrocames, if you can manage to keep your mouth shut, you may also attend."

Abrocames scowled at Perseus before leading the group towards the center of the plain. There they met King Leonidas and the same three Spartans they had encountered four days past.

Perseus acknowledged the aging king with a nod, something that infuriated Abrocames to no end because the General had never shown him respect.

"King Leonidas," Perseus began, "have you given any more thought to surrendering?"

"I gave my answer four days ago. I will not repeat myself," Leonidas replied.

Abrocames suddenly spoke. A royal could obtain all the education he desired so he was versed with the Greek language, "Surrender your weapons, Leonidas, and I promise your life will be spared!"

Leonidas looked at his fellow Spartans before all of them burst into laughter. Eventually Leonidas recovered himself enough to shout, "ΜΟΛΩΝ ΛΑΒΕ!" Or "Come and get!"

Perseus broke out into a wide smile. To say in the least, it was the funniest thing he had heard in weeks and it had made out Abrocames as being uneducated.

"Prepare yourself, Leonidas! I would see you laughing at your death!" It was the only thing Abrocames said before he marched off to the army. The First Lieutenant followed him.

Perseus shook his head. He was feeling peculiar at how the two had easily abandoned him to the Spartans. If he had to describe his emotions, he would have said that he felt insulted that he had been left at the mercy of the Greeks. Did he not command respect as a Persian General? Was there some sort of hidden hatred bared toward him by men in the army? As a General, he was stern and commanded respect but unlike a few fellow Generals, Perseus was not cruel.

Perseus shook his head. Now was not the time to be thinking of such things; he would deal with it all later. Now, he was dealing with several Spartans. He had to be on guard since these men could easily take him by force. The only thing holding them at bay was that they had met under a truce.

As if sensing his internal worry, Leonidas spoke, "Do not fear, Persian General. As long as you do not attack first, we will not harm you. We respect the truce."

Perseus cracked a smile as he crossed his arms, "You speak as if I fear something."

Leonidas adopted a serious look, "The gods are beings that we all should fear. You are young Perseus so perhaps you do not understand. I will speak as simply as I can. There will always be something or someone to fear. The challenge is to overcome the fear."

"As you say Leonidas, I am young. Perhaps I just have not yet met the object of my fear," Perseus mused.

Both Perseus and Leonidas looked up to the sky. High noon.

"It is time for war, King of Sparta," Perseus simply said.

"So it is, Lord of Persia. Battle well and fight true for this battle may be your last, Perseus," Leonidas told him before he and his comrades moved towards their army.

"And you as well, aging hero-king of Sparta, Leonidas," A raised hand told Perseus that Leonidas had heard him.

Perseus walked back towards his army. The cry of war would soon be upon them.

...

Because the Persians had used their traditional shoot from a distance tactic, it was only logical for the Greeks to have suffered the first casualties of the conflict. The Greeks had adopted the same tactic and promptly responded by shooting their own arrows into the Persian hazarabam.

For the next three hours, they continued their war of attrition, each side hoping to batter the other enough to obtain a surrender from them. Ultimately, the Greek army could not withstand losing too many troops without having engaged in close combat so a new order was given by Leonidas.

"Charge!"

The Persians met the thundering Greeks with an equally loud battle cry, converging into a single entity for a moment before utterly breaking army formation and scattering into smaller battles. After another hour, it became glaringly obvious that while the Greeks were superior in combat, they lacked the numbers, by a hundred thousand, the Persians had. Persians could afford heavy losses, the Greeks could not.

Perseus sat cross-legged on the soil floor in his tent dressed in full battle armor. Light battle armor but battle armor nevertheless. His bronze sword was laid out horizontally before him. Two guards stood outside his tent, preventing him from escaping.

Perseus was essentially under tent arrest. Evidentially, members of the royal family did not enjoy being insulted with many members of the Persian Army to bear witness. Apparently, calling a brother to the king "a child whom everyone should avoid for fear of contracting his contagious disease of idiocy" merited being under guard.

The only regret Perseus had was that he had not insulted the boy more before he was put under guard. Well, that and not being able to fight. Perseus stood up. He was to be under guard for four hours. If he stepped out before then, he would be killed. As if anyone could defeat him.

Perseus couldn't explain it but he knew that four hours had passed. As he stepped outside the tent, making sure to grab his sword before he did so, he noted that he should try to stop insulting Abrocomes at every chance he got. At this rate, he would never get the chance to battle.

...

If the skill of a warrior could be compared to the rank a man held in society, Leonidas would have been a warlord. Every kick assisted a fellow warrior for a kill and every slash of his sword felled a Persian warrior. Though aged, he was among the most skilled of all Greeks. His mere presence inspired the Greeks to fell even more Persian scum.

Leonidas had just finished slitting the throat of a Persian when he was hit in his right shoulder by a projectile. Leonidas pulled the arrow out, not bothering to inspect the injury. It was a flesh wound, nothing that would severely impair his fighting skill.

After several quick glances and memorizing the position of allies and enemies, a skill only honed by years of training and experience on the battlefield, he finally found his archer. It was the same slimy looking man that had told him to surrender his weapons. Abrocames, Leonidas believed his name to be.

Letting out a wordless battle cry, Leonidas charged the cowardly royal, startling him into dropping the arrow he had been notching. A look of fear crossed Abrocames's face as he quickly backed away, attempting to notch another arrow but failing miserably.

Just as Leonidas was about to strike the man down with a swift thrust to his heart, he was disarmed by a strike to the pommel of his blade. A man moved between the two men, making himself an obstacle to Leonidas.

The man fought under the Persian banner but shared no traits that were commonly found with citizens of Persia. His skin tone was several shades lighter than the sun kissed skin a Persian possessed. He was a head taller than an average man, as tall as Leonidas himself, and even shared a young Leonidas's head of raven hair although the man's seemed to be perpetually messy. However, the most startling feature were the eyes. They were a shade of green. Sea-green if Leonidas were forced to name a specific shade. It was a color that Leonidas had found familiar in the past two meetings.

Perseus spoke first, "Ah, Leonidas. We finally meet upon the field of battle."

Leonidas scowled. Perseus was a good man, of that there could be no argument. However, now he was an enemy, an obstacle to overcome. "Perseus. I had become so engrossed with the man behind you that I had let my guard down. Had I realized you were so near, I would not have met my guard down so easily."

"It happens to the best of us...elder of Sparta. Come, pick up your sword. It would dishonor me to strike down a worthy foe while wielding no weapon," Leonidas acknowledged his greatest foe with a nod and retrieved his sword.

"What do you think you're doing, General? Xerxes has given the command to behead the King of Sparta and to mount his worthless head atop a pike and crucify his body! How dare you defy a direct order!" Abrocomes raged.

"A moment Leonidas," Perseus turned around and addressed Abrocomes, "I do not see Xerxes leading this battle. If he wishes for the head of the Spartan King so badly, then let him come challenge the King of Sparta and see if he can do himself what he has ordered. Or perhaps, since you so vehemently follow the King's command, you yourself can take Xerxes's place to slay the Spartan King! I will even lend you my blade."

Perseus paused, waiting for the royal brother to respond. The only response he received was a frightful look.

"Then leave my sight, coward. Go before Leonidas or I contract your weak will and fear in addition to your idiocy!" Perseus roared. The panicky man immediately ran, never once looking back.

"Thank Verethragna that I was not born a king of Persia otherwise I might actually have to be respectful to the man," Perseus shook his head before spinning and adopting a defensive stance with his sword.

"Come now, Leonidas, let us test our might against one another and prove who is the more skilled warrior."

Leonidas nodded and assumed his own stance, the business end of the sword pointed downwards to launch an uppercut as his first move.

The two ran at each other, both intent on killing the other, but just as the two swords collided for the first time, two war horns were sounded, signaling sunset.

Perseus sheathed his sword, "Saved by the horn, eh Leonidas?"

"Humph. It appears to me that you were the one who was saved, Perseus."

Sunset was the generally accepted time when major battles was to end for the day. Darkness blinded even the greatest of warriors. Darkness belonged to the mysteries of the world not simple, battling men. Night was a time for rest.

Perseus spoke suddenly, "Tomorrow, one of us will die."

Leonidas raised an eyebrow, signaling for the youth to continue.

Perseus shook his head, "It is just a feeling but one that I have learned not to ignore. We will be locked in a great battle and only one of us will come out of it alive."

"Perhaps you have a small part oracle in you, boy. On occasion, that could be a good thing," Leonidas responded. He had received a prophecy before coming to wage war. It had hinted at death but was surprised that a simple warrior could sense it.

"Perhaps. My father served Mithras, the Persian god of light. Like your Apollo, it is feasible he has ties to prophetic powers and I am able to access it through feeling," Perseus mused before laughing, "It is strange, Leonidas. I have never talked of such things before and yet with you, a complete stranger, I am more comfortable than any man I have ever known."

"That would be camaraderie in battle. I feel the same with you, young one, but I will not let that interfere with my purpose here and nor should you. Rest now for tomorrow, according to you, one of us will die," Leonidas smiled inwardly. He hadn't felt so alive since previous battles. With a single clash of blades, Leonidas could tell that Perseus was as skilled as any Spartan.

Both Leonidas and Perseus wondered the same thing as they headed towards their respective camps.

Who would live and who would die?

~A70 Ch4~


	5. The King of Sparta

~A70 Ch5~

Of all the possible expenses ranging from new sandals to a full set of iron armor, the greatest expense for any man was to provide for a family. How many children, a home, the bride-price of a wife, food, life after being a warrior; there were far too many costs to having a family.

It was the reason why Ephialtes had come to the Persian camp. He was a Malian who hailed from Trachis, a city west from Thermopylae. Ephialtes had fallen in love with a Spartan, a girl named Ellas. She didn't return his affection but he hoped that if he offered a large bride-price, she would have no choice but to accept. The quickest and most convenient route to the bride-price Ephialtes imagined laid with the Persians.

Ephialtes didn't mind being rough handled by two of the Persian guards since he was being taken to the fearsome General who led the assault. They stopped before a tent and the guard on his left went inside. A few minutes later, he came out and nodded, roughly grabbing his arm once more and dragging him inside the tent.

What surprised Ephialtes was that there were few things inside the tent. Armor tucked in a corner, a mat in another corner, and two people, the first being the General who withstood the blow of the famed king, Leonidas, and the other, a scrawny man with a shifty look in his eyes. Ephialtes had expected to find lavish items strewn across the tent.

"You claim to have information for us, Greek?" The General asked bluntly. Ephialtes took that to mean that he was in no mood for games.

"I do," Ephialtes replied. He wasn't sure how to go about asking for a reward.

"Well? What is it? Speak quickly, Greek!" The scrawny man demanded.

So Ephialtes told the two what he knew, "There is a pass that goes south around Thermopylae. It's extremely narrow, barely being able to hold ten men side by side and is guarded by one thousand Phocians. If you could get past them, it opens out to behind the rear Greek lines."

Perseus rubbed his chin. A route that bypasses the entire Greek army by going south over the mountains. They would be able to easily crush the Greek army.

Abrocomes grinned, "Excellent. Crushing the Greeks will go quicker than planned. As for you Greek..."

Ephialtes looked hopefully at the royal brother. Perhaps he would be the one give him a reward.

"Execution."

Abrocomes nodded to the guards who instantly grabbed each arm of the traitorous Greek.

"But-" Ephialtes began, a look of horror was plastered on his face.

"But nothing," Abrocames said icily, narrowing his eyes, "You are a traitor. We cannot know if you would betray us as well so we will execute you to avoid a potential threat."

"Why did you turn traitor?" Perseus asked suddenly.

Ephialtes gave Perseus a blank look. Why would he ask such a thing? In fact, why would he care? Nevertheless, Ephialtes answered, "I am hopelessly in love with a girl but cannot offer her anything."

The half-god looked thoughtful for a while before speaking, "Release him and give him one thousand Darics...and a cart since I doubt the man will be able to carry that with his strength alone."

Ephialted looked at Perseus in awe. Darics were made purely of gold. A single Daric was worth twenty-five Athenian drachmas, which were made mainly of silver. Twenty-five thousand Athenian drachmas was a ludicrous amount.

"And who exactly do you think will be paying such an extreme amount?" Abrocomes challenged.

"Why the royal coffers you decided to bring along of course," Perseus chuckled.

"I will not be paying some traitor off!" Abrocomes shouted.

Perseus remained quiet before smirking at the aggravating royal, "You may not find yourself breathing tomorrow if you refuse to comply, Abrocomes."

Perseus smiled darkly before exiting his tent. It was a sure thing that Abrocomes would comply with an ominous looming over him.

Perseus walked past the hundreds of tents that cluttered the land until he finally found the tent he had been searching for. He walked inside and found a man seated on a chair, reading a book.

"General Perseus," The man acknowledged him with a nod.

"Commander Hydarnes. You've been relatively quiet ever since Abrocomes ordered you and your men to not participate in the fight," Perseus said.

"Not even I can disobey the direct order of a royal family member," Hydarnes smiled as he closed his book and got up from his seat, "I've heard rumors among the men that you met the Spartan King Leonidas on the battlefield. How skilled was he?"

"We only clashed our blades once before the war horn sounded," Perseus admitted, "but his fighting skill is equal to us both."

Hydarnes raised a bushy eyebrow, "Impressive. Not many can match a former Immortal and current Commander of the Immortals."

The Immortals were ten _hazarabams_ or a _baivarabam_ of the most skilled warriors throughout Persia. They were known as the Immortals because if one warrior resigned, fell sick, or died, he would immediately be replaced by another man. They inspired confidence in their allies and instilled fear in the hearts of their enemies.

Perseus had once been an Immortal before he had accepted an offer to become General of the Persian infantry. He had become good friends with the Commander, a Persian with common looks and in his late thirties.

Hydarnes shook his head, "In any case, the only reason you could possibly be here is because you need me for something. Well, spit out Perseus, what do you need?"

Perseus smilingly shook his head, "You know me well, friend. I have been recently informed that a route that bypasses the entire Greek force exists. You and your Immortals are to go through it and engage the Greek army from the rear."

"Very well, Perseus, is there anything i should expect?" Hydarnes asked.

"One thousand Phocians are blocking the route. Judging by the fact that you will have to scale a mountain or two, I would say you will get there by tomorrow night, should you leave at dawn tomorrow," Perseus finished.

Hydarnes nodded his head in acknowledgment. Perseus had turned to leave when Hydarnes stopped him, "Oh and Perseus? Try not to get yourself killed tomorrow."

Perseus grinned before raising a hand, telling Hydarnes that he heard him.

Once Perseus had left, Hydarnes picked up his book and began reading again.

...

Midday

Ever since dawn, Perseus had been searching for Leonidas on the battlefield, gutting the throat and stabbing the heart of each Greek he came across in his unquenchable thirst for battle.

Perseus was soaked in his own sweat and blood was splattered on his armor torso and face, giving him the appearance of a ferocious red demon hellbent on killing Greeks. The only wound he suffered from was when he had encountered a former horseman wielding a lance.

The horseman had managed to plunge a couple centimeters of his lance into Perseus's stomach before Perseus had managed to backtrack and deflect the next thrust, allowing Perseus to get in close and plunge his sword deep into the heart of the horseman, killing him instantaneously.

Leonidas had had an easier time of the first six hours of battle. He had been stuck in the middle lines of the Greek army for three hours before the fighting had yet again dissolved into small groups. As typical, he had fought with a ferocious might, slaying any Persian in his path with his superior skill.

It was midday when the two demons on the battlefield caught sight of each other amidst the fighting around them.

"LEONIDAS!"

"PERSEUS!"

Not a moment's hesitation later, Perseus and Leonidas finally met each other with a collision of blades. There was no camaraderie now, there was only the enemy before them.

Perseus immediately sidestepped to his left, anticipating the king's next attack before striking at the Spartan with a horizontal slash. Leonidas narrowly avoided being cut in half by countering with his own sword. Perseus was surprised; he had underestimated the quickness in which Leonidas wielded his blade. He hadn't thought anyone could change directions so quickly.

Perseus scowled before engaging the Spartan King once more in a duel of blades. For an hour they fought, neither giving the other an edge until Leonidas came to a realization.

He was tiring. He was older so of course a prolonged fight would drain his energy quicker than say his opponent, a man who was less than half his age.

In those few moments that Leonidas had countered Perseus's attack leaving the latter open to a counterattack, Leonidas came to yet another realization. He would have to invoke his power as a legacy of Heracles.

Godlike strength.

In the moment to counterattack, the King of Sparta cocked a fist and punched Perseus in the face. The Lord of Persia was sent flying for a few seconds, actually somersaulting before he landed in a heap.

Leonidas shook his head sadly, "I am sorry Perseus but in war anything goes."

The strength of that single punch was enough to kill ten men.

...

Perseus felt like a piece of worn out body armor that had seen better days. Needless to say, his face felt horrible. He opened his eyes and glared ferociously at the ground.

Of course Leonidas had divine strength. He had practically announced it when he claimed to be a descendant of Heracles! Perseus picked himself up. Thankfully, his sword was in arm's reach. Two could play at Leonidas's game.

He would show the Spartan King the true might of Verethragna's only child!

...

"Leo-NIDAS!"

Leonidas turned around only to stare in horror at what could only be Hades's doing. There was no other conceivable way that Perseus could still be alive.

Perseus saw the same ten discs before him, each engraved with a different image. Only he could see the discs that unlocked his power. This time he chose the disc with an image of a bird.

"I invoke Bird of Prey! Grant me speed!" Perseus roared to the heavens.

Quicker than a cricket's chirp, Perseus had skirted around allies and foes engaged in battle and closed the distance between he and Leonidas in a nanosecond.

Just before their blades collided, Perseus shouted, "I call upon the Bull! Grant me godlike strength!"

As their blades met, the veteran Spartan was immediately sent flying.

"How does it feel to fly Leonidas?" Perseus convulsed in laughter before quickly covering the distance to the recovering Leonidas.

Leonidas scarcely managed to deflect the next flurry of his opponent's sword strikes. Leonidas grimaced as Perseus's sword got through his defenses and punctured his stomach. Even with Leonidas's inherited strength, the boy was unstoppable. Perhaps the Persian gods did exist; it was the only conceivable reason Leonidas could come up with as his sword arm was cut.

Leonidas panted heavily. Even in his youth, he had never been pushed to such an extreme. He was astounded that Perseus had that much energy left after having taken a blow that could stop a god in his tracks. But he supposed that Perseus was no ordinary man. He was as fast as Hermes and perhaps, dare he say it, even stronger than Heracles himself.

"A fight worthy of Verethragna, Leonidas. Not many could survive this long. But now, your time has come," Perseus proclaimed.

"I suppose the Fates had decided my fate since my birth. Still, it is sad when a man knows he is doomed," Leonidas said. He was leaning heavily on his sword.

"I want you to have my sword, Perseus. Despite being the one who will kill me, you are a good man. It would do well in your hands," Leonidas broke the silence.

"As you wish, Leonidas."

Perseus walked forward. Just as he was about to plunge his sword into Leonidas's heart, Leonidas began laughing. Perseus smiled, remembering what Abrocomes had said the previous day though it seemed like many years. Still smiling, he killed Leonidas. Blood trailed down the body of the Spartan as he fell to the ground, dead.

Perseus managed to gain a hold on the newly deceased King of Sparta before he could fall to the ground. Perseus laid him gently on the ground, retrieving the king's sword. It was, as he expected, perfectly balanced.

As the Persians saw the Spartan King fall, they cheered their victory loudly in the ears of the Greeks.

Abrocomes approached Perseus, "Excellent work, Perseus. I will behead him and crucify him now as per King Xerxes's orders."

Before he could move past the tired half-blood, he was stopped by a Spartan blade at his throat. Abrocomes instinctively gulped, accidentally drawing blood.

"You will do no such thing. Any attempt to do so will result in your execution. Speak a single word more and I will personally parade your head atop a pike in front of your brother, the King of Persia," The look in Perseus's eyes told Abrocomes that Perseus would kill him without a second thought.

Silently, Abrocomes retreated.

"Greeks, take the body of your king. The day is nearly over. Mourn the loss of your king and prepare yourself for tomorrow will only bring you death!" Perseus was as loud as a thunderclap in his announcement.

Sadly, Perseus walked slowly to his tent, pensive, and mourning the loss of what could have been a great friend.

~A70 Ch5~


	6. The Art of War

~A70 Ch6~

It was a quiet night. Soldiers on both sides mourned the loss of their comrades. The few Spartans that had survived the two days of battle quietly grieved the loss of their king. They were Spartans, they would not wail into the night like women. It would insult the memory of their king.

Finally, a Thespian, Demophilus, son of Diadromes and commander of the seven hundred Thespians spoke, "We will remain with you Spartans. We will fight to the last man!"

A cheering broke out through the proud Thespians to which several of the Spartans nodded their appreciation. The Helots, a people who were ultimately ruled by the Spartans, also stayed. They totaled nine hundred men.

In total, there was nineteen hundred men who had pledged to remain behind. They would guard against the Persian calvary's charge, allowing the rest of the Greek army to escape to fight in future battles.

They all knew they were fated to die should they remain. They did not care. They would fight like gods among men. The men remaining had nothing left to lose.

They would show those Persian cowards the true might of Greece's strongest city-state!

...

Perseus was feeling gloomy. Killing men was a typical task in his employment as a battle-hardened general but it had never saddened him. So why was he feeling like this?

Perhaps his father, Verethragna, was actually right and fighting was not the answer? With his depressed state, Perseus certainly thought the god could be right.

From his cot, Perseus stared at the ceiling of his tent. He decided on a course of action or rather, inaction. He wouldn't participate in the battle tomorrow to see how he felt about it.

Perseus sighed before closing his eyes and going to sleep.

...

A single thunderbolt shattered the heavens. Rather than descending to the earth, the bolt ascended in a rising crescendo. Just as it would have passed the barrier of sky and space, it splintered into several smaller, powerful lightning bolts.

It was Zeus's flashy summons to assemble the Olympians for an emergency council meeting. The vibrations that followed ensured that not even Hades, who lived underground, could claim that he had not known about the council meeting. Not that Hades was allowed to join.

One by one, the Olympians flashed in, each giving Zeus a peculiar look. They had not been summoned to an emergency council meeting since the war with Gaea.

"Father, why have we been summoned?" A regal woman asked. She had proud grey eyes that sparkled with intelligence and wore a silver tiara on top of her long, curled black hair. She was Athena, the Greek goddess of wisdom and battle strategy.

"Your strategy has failed, Athena," Zeus replied to his favorite daughter, "Greece had all but lost the Battle of Thermopylae. It is only a matter of time before they are killed."

"I told you your plan would fail, Athena!" Ares shouted.

"Even the greatest of strategies can fail," Athena responded to both Ares and Zeus. She had watched the two days of battle that had raged in Thermopylae and saw that she had underestimated the ferocity and skill of a particular man who led the entire Persian infantry. She was determined not to make the same mistake twice.

"Oh?" Poseidon questioned, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "One of Athena's plans have failed? How...surprising."

Athena scowled. Poseidon was purposefully trying to rile her especially since she had turned his lover Medusa into a Gorgon. "I did not account for the Persian General of the infantry to be such a shrewd tactician and a gifted warrior."

"And how do you propose we go from here?" Zeus interrogated. He was quite unhappy that his daughter's strategy had failed.

"A retreat. Before Leonidas died, I had him leave instructions to his second in command to order a complete retreat. The Athenian ships will also withdraw once they have learned that the Thermopylae has fallen," Athena explained.

"And what of your _shrewd tactician_?" Ares sneered.

"I admit that he is a cunning warrior," Athena conceded, "The man commands well over a hundred thousand men. The entire combined force of Greeks cannot match the man in a battle of numbers. He will have to be killed if we hope to successfully repel the Persian invasion."

"So exactly what will you have us do, Athena?" Artemis raised an eyebrow at her half-sister.

"Assassination."

A song of silence filled the throne room. An Olympian having to break the Ancient Laws to deal with a mere mortal? The very thought was ridiculous! Ridiculous but necessary should they wish to remain the rulers of the world.

"I'll do it."

They all turned to Ares who unsurprisingly had a look of anger in his eyes.

"The guy killed Leonidas, right? He has to be a skilled warrior. I'll lead the rest of the warriors into battle and ensure that the general is killed!" Ares looked downright murderous.

"I cannot condone the breaking of the Ancient Laws," Zeus said with an air of finality, deciding against the decision.

Ares looked at his father, "The thing is Zeus, I don't really care what you think this point."

Before Zeus could yell at his son, Ares had flashed out of the throne room.

Zeus's eyes widened in surprise before flashing out.

As the Olympians vanished from the throne room, Athena had only one thought.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

...

As the remaining Greeks had predicted, the Persian had blitzed with their cavalry, hoping to eliminate the Greek army in one fell swoop. The Persian cavalry, to say in the least, was entirely unsuccessful.

The Persians had expected to defeat the Greeks with little effort. Their leader, King Leonidas, had been killed before their very eyes. Their very spirit should have been crushed and the victory, Persia's for the taking!

Instead, they had encountered a demonic horde that fought no matter the intensity of the wounds they incurred as they fought. Their eyes showed no fear, no crushed spirit, only a primitive defiance as if they opposed death itself. It was frightening.

Leading the defense that seemed to had become an offense was a fearsome man. He had short, cropped black hair, a strange sight to behold in any place, and fiery eyes that screamed of maliciousness. He wore full bronze battle armor and wielded a spear in one hand and a sword in the other. His very presence sparked anger in both the Greeks and the Persians, causing them to fight with a viciousness that ran unparalleled to any comparable war.

Almost immediately, the Persian cavalry retreated, having suffered heavy losses in their initial attack manly to thanks to the god of war. The majority of had not wanted to retreat due to their bloodthirsty state but were forced to by their cavalry commander who had only just realized that they would not win what they had hoped would be a massacre.

"Bring your infantry general!" Ares raged as the Persians stampeded back towards their camp.

...

"Perseus! Perseus!" Abrocomes shouted as he ran inside the tent, awaking the sleeping demigod.

Perseus blinked sleepily as he sat up, wiping drool off the corner of his mouth before speaking, "What do you want, Abrocomes?"

"The shock attack by the cavalry failed!" Abrocomes exclaimed.

Perseus yawned, not bothering to cover his mouth, "What's your point?"

"There's a man that's leading the Greeks-" Abrocomes began.

"-well, of course there is, you idiot. That's only to be expected after I killed Leonidas or did you think that the Greeks would roll over and happily die for you?" Perseus interrupted.

"LISTEN TO ME!" Abrocomes screamed, jumping up and down as he spoke.

Perseus blinked, "Continue."

"We sent an entire _hazarabam_ to take on the Greeks after the cavalry returned," Abrocomes slowly said, "None of them returned."

"Oh? Well maybe you should come up with battle plans rather than just send an entire _hazarabam_," Perseus responded lazily. He didn't care for proper etiquette when he had just woken up from a midmorning nap.

"The _hazarabam_ was defeated by one man."

Perseus had a look of awe on his face. If that was true, the man might actually be a Greek god. Ares was the most likely candidate, having read of his tendency for violence but it could easily be another god.

"Well? Why have you come to me? I killed Leonidas so you take care of this monster," Perseus finally broke the silence.

"The monster, as you so put it, is asking for you," Abrcomes answered.

Perseus sighed, "I'm wounded."

"Too bad."

"I said I wouldn't fight today."

"That's your problem."

"I'm taking a personal day."

"You're not allowed personal days in the middle of a war."

Perseus groaned as he stood up. It was days like these that made him wish he was a simple farmer. He would marry a simple farm girl and have simple farm children. He would till the land for a simple amount of years, if that made sense, before dying, quite simply he might add.

Perseus shook his head, "Bring me a basin of water. I have not yet completely washed myself of the previous day's bloodbath."

Once Perseus had been brought what he was asked for, he was left alone. No side dared attack the other. The Greeks blocked the Persian advance by the Greek god, Ares just as the Persians stonewalled a Greek advance by their numbers. It was Troy all over again only this time, there was no wall causing a ten year stalemate.

Once Perseus had cleansed himself, his clothes, and his armor, he clothed himself and drew his sword from the ground. The wounds he had suffered the last two days were minor.

He was ready to take on this horrible monster.

...

Perseus and Ares met in the center of the battlefield, empty of all but the blood that had remained from yesterday's fighting. The only acknowledgement that a battle had even occurred.

"Who are you?" Rather than the bloodlust Abrocomes had described, Perseus felt a quiet calm descend upon him. He supposed it was because he was the son of Verethragna, a god associated with war. A war god in his own right.

"I am Ares, the god of war," Ares smirked triumphantly as if he already knew the outcome of their inevitable battle.

Perseus scratched his head as he looked the war god from head to toe. No helm like Perseus, a bronze body plate, a sword in one hand and a spear in the other as if he couldn't decide which one to use so he had chosen both, bronze leggings, and a pair of sandals.

"I guess it'll be an honor to defeat you. I'm not really sure since you look like a weakling."

Perseus often made it a habit of insulting enemies he didn't particularly like. Obviously, he wasn't supposed to like enemies in the first place but he insulted enemies that seemed overly arrogant in their abilities. Such as the god before him.

Ares growled at the half-blood. "Will you be announcing yourself or will you die a lowly mortal?"

"Humph. My name is Perseus. Engrave it into your brain because then you will know who to curse when you are defeated."

Ares responded by experimentally jabbing at Perseus. Perseus answered by grabbing the spear by its wooden shaft and snapping it like it twig. There was not a need to summon the strength of the Bull for such a simple task.

"None of that now," Perseus smirked at the war god, "Unless you're telling me a war god is incapable of defeating a lowly mortal through sword-fighting alone."

Ares howled in rage as he let loose a wild, unpredictable offense with his sword, hacking and slashing, enhanced by his godly strength.

Perseus could see how he could an entire _hazarabam_ was defeated by the god. At first, it seemed that there was no method to his madness. Persians were trained to spot and counter techniques so he was unsurprised at the massacre of the _hazarabam_. Perseus had nearly been carved up by Ares's third strike. However, he had remained calm and defended as best he could before he finally spotted a sort of undeveloped technique.

Perseus had not been able to counter for fear of losing an arm to the wild hacking so he had been on the defensive. It was bad. Perseus was still fatigued from his battle with Leonidas while the monstrous god shown no sign of tiring.

An opening! Perseus struck with a the strength he could muster into where the god's heart should be, hoping that he could end the battle with a single strike.

No such luck. Ares grinned as Perseus's common bronze sword shattered on impact. Ares then brought his own sword down on the demigod who had risked leaving a huge opening for the sole purpose of slaying the Greek war god.

Perseus managed to save his life by raising his own arm, catching Ares's sword on his vambrace. A ringing noise upon contact left Perseus's left arm dull but he managed to push himself away from the god of war at the last moment, buying himself a few, vital seconds.

Ares roared in laughter, sure of his victory, "How do you plan fighting me now, mortal?"

Perseus allowed a small smile to escape his lips. He visualized the ten discs that allowed him to unlock his power. This time he selected the disc with a white stallion engraved on it.

"I invoke the White Stallion. Grant me the power of the sun!"

Ares blinked for a second as he felt an intense sensation on his eyes. Ares screamed in pain. His eyes were burning! Then he was blasted by a beam of light that sent him hurtling towards the coastline. The coastline was high up from the actual ground. In reality, it was a cliff that extended throughout the battlefield.

Summoning the power of the Bird of Prey, Perseus quickly caught up to the war god. Shifting powers, he used the godly strength he was granted from the Bull to topple Ares over the cliff and into the ocean below.

Perseus got on his knees, making sure he did not collapse by holding a hand to the dirt floor. He was unused to using his powers in succession and only a day after he had already used them. It severely drained his energy.

Perseus slowly got up only to come face to face with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She was stunning with long auburn hair and startling silver eyes. She was dressed in peculiar silver clothing, long enough to not be inappropriate but short enough to move freely. Perseus found himself unable to speak.

Not a moment later, the goddess of the moon stabbed her silver knife into the heart of the man, easily cutting through his leather armor. She assumed her divine form and left not a trace that she had been there except for the silver knife that remained in his heart.

After the battle had been won by the Persians, mainly due to the timely arrival of Hydarnes, leader of the Immortals, Perseus's body had been discovered by Hydarnes.

Hydarnes pressed two fingers to his friend's neck, hoping to sense even a faint pulse as evidence that Perseus was still alive. It was not to be.

For three days, the Persians remained in Thermopylae, creating an elaborate tomb for their fallen leader. When it was completed, Perseus was buried with his armor, his broken sword, Leonidas's sword, and the silver knife that had killed him. There was only one thing certain about the former General of the Persian infantry army.

Perseus was truly dead.

~A70 Ch6~


	7. An Explanation of Death

~A70 Ch7~

Perseus wondered where he was. In any direction he looked, all he could see was darkness illuminated by the constant twinkling of distant, tiny lights. _Stars_, Perseus recalled the name of the small but bright lights. It appeared that he was in the middle of the night sky.

Perseus lifted his own arm only to narrow his eyes as he saw he had a transparent arm. When he looked down, he found two things. The first was that his entire body was transparent. The second was that he was in the nude. Not a centimeter of clothing or armor could be seen on his body.

"Well that is interesting," Perseus said aloud, "but what is happening to me?"

In response, four lights suddenly appeared before Perseus, each rivaling the radiance of the sun and forcing him to close his eyes lest he spontaneously combust. Then he opened his eyes to see the gods' final seconds of their divine form when he realized that he was already dead.

Floating before him were the four major gods who fought for Good in the eternal battle of Good and Evil. Ahura Mazda, the lord of light and wisdom and the chief god who battled for good was the first god he noticed. Accompanying him was his son, Mithras, a gold eyed god of light, the sun, a protector of contracts among other things and was said to be all-knowing.

Another who accompanied the lord of wisdom was Anahita, the goddess of the waters as well as fertility, healing, and wisdom. As typically associated with aquatic deities, her eyes were the color of the deep ocean. She had black hair that curled to just below her shoulders.

The final of the four gods was his own father, Verethragna. He was the god of battle and victory and Protector of the Vrahran Fire, the most sacred of all fires. He wielded many powers associated with the ten forms he could transform into. This made Verethragna one of the most powerful gods but one of the weakest as well. Weak in the sense that he could be killed like any mortal. Thankfully, one of his powers was that of instantaneous revival which meant that he was also one of the most dangerous of gods to anger. Victory required patience and Verethragna was an extremely patient god.

Anahita's lips curved into a smile as she appraised the man before her, "Had I known your child was so...well endowed, I would have immediately made him one of my lovers, Verethragna."

Rather than be embarrassed, Perseus rolled his eyes. As part of Persian training, he had been forced to fight in the nude on multiple occasions. It was strangely refreshing to be free of constraining clothing.

"Is there a reason I am here or did you all decide you had to see me after you faded from the planet?" Perseus asked finally, breaking the absence of sound that had gathered when Anahita had spoken.

"You died, Perseus," Verethragna answered.

"Well of course I did. Killing the mighty warrior, King Leonidas of Sparta in a battle that could rival one of your own and then defeating the Greek god of war, Ares, a powerful god in his own right, the following day drained too much of my energy. I could not move a muscle when I turned only to find a mysterious woman who appeared out of no where and killed me," Perseus protested his argument.

"Yes, yes, we know all of this," Mithras yawned, "At least, I know all of this."

"So then why am I here? Why did I not go Duzakh?" Duzakh was the Persian version of the Underworld. It was far more deadly than the Greek Underworld because while in the Underworld, bad souls would be tortured, Duzakh tortured the bad souls before destroying them.

"The Persian Pantheon faded from existence on the earth," Mithras snorted, "of course Duzakh does not exist anymore. All souls now go to the Greek Underworld."

"So then why did I not go to the Greek Underworld?"

"Because you are a Persian demigod, child," Anahita turned to face Verethragna, "I have changed my mind. If he were to ask that many questions while consummating our status as lovers, I would never be satisfied."

From the lord of wisdom emanated a booming laughter. Perseus allowed his head to rest on his shoulder as he impatiently waited for his questions to be answered.

"Any demigod who dies after their pantheon has faded do not go to their version of what awaits them after death or any other version. Instead, they are promoted to immortals and enjoy the Void as well as they are able to," Ahura Mazda answered in his sincerely wise way that only he could pull off.

"Unless that demigod happens to be the only child of Verethragna who has been entrusted with his domains on earth and is named Perseus, that is," Mithras added.

"Well, my name is Perseus and I am the only child of Verethragna but I do not recall being granted domains like I am some sort of god," Perseus pointed out.

"Fair enough but you cannot be killed, at least, not for very long. The next time you die, if you happen to die, you will be revived almost instantaneously. The third time, should it happen, it will be an instantaneous revival," Mithras responded.

Perseus looked to his father who said, "You seem to have forgotten that I unlocked the rest of your powers in that tent several weeks ago. In addition to the warrior, the youth, the ram, and the goat, you also have my power of manipulating fire."

"Huh. Strange. I didn't feel any surge in power."

"You had to die once before it could be completely unlocked," Anahita answered.

"Is this the only reason I'm here? So you all could tell me all this?" Perseus wondered.

The three gods turned to Ahura Mazda to speak. "You have a choice to make now, young one. You may enter the Void and enjoy your immortality comfortably or you may return to Earth where you will live a never-ending life filled with hardships but also with friendship coupled with a smattering of what I detect to be romance."

Perseus cocked his head to one side, "If I wanted to return to Earth, how would I be able to?"

"Tap over your heart once and you will return to the Earth," Mithras said.

"But know this Perseus, the choice you make here is a crossroads of sorts, it is what decides your destiny, should you choose to have one," Ahura Mazda began, "It is-"

"I made my choice! Bye!" Perseus quickly interrupted before tapping his chest. A blinding light later, he was gone.

"Reckless, impatient, and yet he was the General of the Persian infantry army, he slew Leonidas, and defeated a god of war? A strange man to be sure," Anahita commented.

"Do not be hard on my child. He has led a militaristic lifestyle from childhood. Perhaps now he can let loose the emotions he has reigned in since becoming a soldier. He certainly proved he has emotions when he so quickly departed to avoid Ahura Mazda's lecture."

Ahura Mazda laughed uproariously, "An interesting forbidden child you have there to be sure, Verethragna. He will make for an intriguing, eternal hero. The heir of victory."

"Come now," Ahura Mazda said, "We have many places yet to explore in the Void."

Four flashes of light later, the Persian gods were gone.

...

Perseus awoke in a dark place, laying on something that seemed to be made of jagged rocks, and with an intense pain in his chest. The pain soon faded as the wound closed up so now Perseus could turn his full attention to the other two problems at hand.

Remembering that he was now supposed to have some sort of mystic manipulation of fire, Perseus decided to begin with illuminating the darkness. Then he paused. Fire was not part of Verethragna's ten forms on the Earth so he could not do what he normally did to summon his powers. _How would this work?_

Perhaps some sort of hand sign would be appropriate? He tried a variety of hand signs among them, a closed fist, an open palm, a fist with his thumb sticking out, his pinky, index, and thumb jutting out of a closed fist. None worked.

Next he tried incantations.

"I summon the most sacred of fires, the Vrahran Fire!"

"I summon regular fire...?"

"Come forth, fire!"

"Hurry up and come out, fire!"

"Illuminate the darkness, fire!"

"Spark into existence!"

Some of Perseus's incantations were utterly bizarre and some even contained made up words. He felt just a little ridiculous talking aloud in the darkness.

"Go, fire, go!"

"Fly, fire!"

"Up, up, and away, fire!"

"Shazam!

"Abracadabra!"

"Tally ho, fire!"

Next, Perseus tried visualizing the fire forming. The first time he did this, he nearly caused his own tomb to melt with the heat of the fire.

"Could I have a small ball of fire that illuminates every corner of shadow, please?"

A ball of fire slowly twinkled into existence. It was small but did exactly as Perseus had asked. He found himself sitting up in his own tomb. His tomb was actually made of solid rock quickly sculptured into something that resembled a tomb. Elaborate as could be under what he assumed was a day's work. On all four sides he was surrounded by rock.

Perseus had more than enough space to walk around comfortable so he did so, inspecting each and every square centimeter. Of course, he did this after he had picked up his broken sword, Leonidas's sword, and the silver knife that had killed him. He inspected it keenly, noting its simple handle but costly metal. He pocketed it, vowing to find out who its owner was one day.

Perseus found what seemed to be the entrance of the cavern he was in. A boulder had been placed in front of the entrance, most likely to prevent thieves from entering his makeshift tomb. Invoking the power of the Bull, Perseus pushed, easily toppling the boulder twenty meters down towards its doom.

Almost immediately after Perseus adjusted his eyes to the sun's rays, he spotted a person staring at him in awe from the path below. A man whom he had saved while a General of the Persian infantry.

Ephialtes.

~A70 Ch7~


	8. A Relatively Simple Decision

~A70 Ch8~

Not a word was uttered as Ephialtes led Perseus towards his new home. It had been several days since the one-time Persian General had died in the Battle of Thermopylae. In such a short span of time, rumors had floated throughout Greece that he had held his own against the might of their gods who had personally intervened to eliminate the threat to their rule.

One rumor held that Perseus had defeated both the Lord of the Skies, Zeus, and the Lady of Wisdom, Athena, using the power of the Persian gods. Another such rumor held that Ares had disobeyed his father and challenged the Persian General only to be thrown into the nearby ocean. A continuation of that rumor claimed that he then was forced to engage the maiden goddess, Artemis, after her half-brother had failed in his duty, in a spectacular combat that rocked the very foundation of the earth until, by some misfortune, he had been killed by Artemis. But only just.

Of course, Ephialtes did not feel a need to mention these rumors to the demon following him. Ephialtes glanced back to peer at the reputed god-slayer only to find him staring at the shattered blade in his hand.

Perseus stared at his broken blade longingly, recalling the memories that accompanied his first sword. Perseus's sword was damaged beyond repair, beyond the skill of even the greatest mortal blacksmith. A sad thing for a reliable sword.

Finally, they arrived at Trachis. Though small in comparison to the great cities of the south, it was the biggest town west of Thermopylae with many hectares of farmland and small houses, made mainly of wood or clay, either the most common material to find or the cheapest. Towards the center of town stood a few two story buildings, all made of stone, dedicated to the gods. It was built at the base of Mount Oeta, the mountain said to be the location of the death and ascendency to godhood of a famous son of Zeus- Heracles.

Sooner rather than later, Ephialtes and Perseus arrived at a house surrounded by several hectares of farmland. Ephialtes had bought it a day after having led Hydarnes through the secret path to defeat the Greek army at Thermopylae. It was a near perfect place to grow crops and earn a tidy sum of money doing so. It was also situated near a city large enough to ensure that people would buy the crops Ephialtes grew.

Inside his quaint little house were a few chairs, a table to eat on, and a few other luxuries he could afford thanks to Perseus's generosity. Ephialtes offered Perseus water and wine of which the former he graciously accepted and downed in a single gulp. It was refreshing for a man who had consumed neither drink or nutrients for several days.

"Tell me, Ephialtes, what has happened to the Persian army now?" Perseus asked. It wasn't that he expected to rejoin the Persian army, after all, he was supposed to be dead, but rather that he wished to keep current of major events.

"After Thermopylae was taken by the Persians, they plundered Boeotia and Attica and by now, have most likely ravaged Athens," Ephialtes responded.

"And Greece?"

"After their defeat at Thermopylae, the Athenian navy at Artemisium retreated and withdrew to Salamis. They lost roughly a hundred ships while the Persian navy lost about two hundred ships. The Athenian council evacuated Athens before it was ransacked. Themistocles is pushing to engage the Persian navy at the Straits of Salamis for a decisive victory against the Persian navy. Artemisia and Halicarnassus, both politicians and generals, are vetoing it so the idea is currently at a stalemate," Ephialtes inhaled deeply, having not taken a single breath throughout his explanation.

Perseus rubbed his chin, "Hmm. Knowing how the Persian navy operates and the largeness of their fleet, this Themistocles has an excellent idea. But, I'm not interested in that."

Perseus continued, "What I am interested in are your deities that have an affinity with silver. My own research was limited about your gods in Persia so it will do me good to learn about Greece's gods since it appears I am stuck here for an indefinite amount of time."

Perseus placed the silver knife that had killed him on the table.

Ephialtes raised an eyebrow, "Well, Hades controls precious metals and since that includes silver it could be his. Another god is Hephaestus who often works with metal. I've never heard of him using silver in his metalworking but it's possible that it could be his. There is a first time for everything."

Perseus shook his head, "From what I can recall before I died, the deity was a goddess. Silver eyes and red, no...auburn hair. She wore silver clothing and walked barefoot."

Ephialtes did not seem surprised. It seemed that the rumors were true though he was surprised that Perseus had admitted his death. "That would be Artemis, a maiden goddess whose domains include the Moon, Archery, the Wilderness, the Hunt, Chastity, and Childbirth."

"Why is it that it she can directly involve herself with mortal affairs?"

"Artemis leads a group of eternal, maiden hand servants known as the Hunters of Artemis. Since she leads them on hunts, it grants her more freedom from Zeus's laws than any other god or goddess," Ephialtes replied.

"The way you say it makes her sound like a pretentious goddess. I suppose that makes me feel less guilty about having to kill her," Perseus stared up at the ceiling as if imagining how he would kill the goddess.

Ephialtes's mouth opened in surprise, "You plan to kill Artemis?"

Perseus shrugged his shoulders, "She tried to-" Perseus let his own mouth open before correcting himself, "She killed me. I think it's only fair that I return the favor. And just like her, I will take her by surprise."

"But you can't kill her! She's part of the Olympian Council! The gods, especially Zeus, would ravage the land to find her killer! And that's only if you are able to kill her. She is immortal, after all," Ephialtes believed it his duty to try and convince the newly returned madman to not kill Olympian goddesses.

Then a thought came to Ephialtes's mind. He remembered the Persian commander, Hydarnes telling him that Perseus abhorred his king, or rather, his former king, because the king had killed all the Persian demigods in his empire.

"Xerxes." It was a single word that immediately cut through Perseus's thoughts and silenced all talk.

Perseus flicked his sea green eyes towards the Greek traitor curiously. _Why had he mentioned the Persian King's name?_

"Xerxes," Ephialtes continued haltingly, "is rumored to be coming to Greece to personally oversee the remainder of the Persian conquest."

Perseus raised an eyebrow. This was interesting. "And the rest of the Persian invasion begins in Salamis."

Perseus now had a forked path before him. On one path, he could track down the goddess who had killed him and take his revenge. The other path held King Xerxes, the man who had killed all the Persian demigods. Both paths held vengeance.

Artemis.

Xerxes.

Artemis.

Xerxes.

Artemis.

Xerxes.

_Abrocomes_.

Perseus grinned widely as he realized that the king's brother would most likely meet the king before initiating the naval battle. Artemis could wait, after all, she was immortal. Xerxes could not. There was only so many years left before Perseus missed his chance to slay the King of Kings. Besides, Perseus owed it to Abrocomes to return years of abuse to the man who had treated him so harshly in his days as a mere soldier.

Perseus smiled. "So tell me Ephialtes, which route is the fastest to Salamis?"

~A70 Ch8~

A/N: I suppose it's about time that I do one of these author's notes. I've been neglecting this. So first off, I want to thank everyone for reading my story and for all your helpful comments. Second, I would like to apologize for the relatively short but necessary filler chapter. Yeah, that's about it. Oh, feel free to ask any questions if you don't understand something. Also, I decided to use the whole time is not a straight line theory so that's why rather than hours later I used several days later. That is all.


	9. The King of Kings

~A70 Ch9~

The last two weeks of sailing were perfect for Andros, Captain of _Ocean's Vanguard_. Despite the unfavorable season, the wind was a southerly, or a wind that blew south, fortunate because the madman who had recruited the entire crew using Persian Darics had wanted to go to the brewing battle between Greek forces and the Persian armada.

Little did the good captain know that Perseus was using his power over winds to slowly tease the winds to move south over the past two weeks. Though control of the winds normally drained Perseus's energy severely, a small usage every other day to nudge the winds wasn't too large a depletion of his energy reserves.

Perseus drank water from a container as he watched the small smudges of ships in the distant become larger with each minute that passed. He took one more swig of water before tossing it aside, allowing the jar to shatter into millions of tiny pieces before getting up from the wooden deck of the ship.

"Here is fine, Captain," Perseus called to Andros.

Andros nodded before ordering some of his crew to drop the anchor, a large basket filled with heavy rocks and sand. Slowly, _Ocean's Vanguard_ came to a halt.

"And how do you plan to get past all these Persian vessels to join the Greek navy, Perseus?" Andros asked in an accent that told no one where he hailed from.

"Congratulations Andros and company," Perseus told the men as he stood at the edge of the ship, clothed in his usual armor of leather and vambraces and having a sword on his back, a broken sword at his waist, and the silver knife that had killed him strapped to the back of his foot, tip pointing upwards, "Today, you get to witness a desert man's first attempt at an aquatic operation!"

Without further ado, Perseus dived into the chilly sea. Andros looked in awe at the position the man had been before running to the edge of the ship and looking to where Perseus had dived.

Not even a ripple remained to suggest that someone had entered the perilous waters.

...

The entire day was spent by Perseus swimming under and around Persian warships to where the Greek army waited for the inevitable battle. Luckily for the Persian demigod, his powers worked just as fine underwater as they did on the surface despite having no aquatic powers whatsoever.

The sun had long since set once Perseus managed to crawl into the sand. Yes, his powers did work underwater and yes, this time unfortunately, his powers drained him just as much. He was tired, breathing raggedly before finally settling himself as comfortably as possible in a mound of sand and rested for the entire night.

The next morning was a peculiar affair. Several turtles had decided to make Perseus's body their home. The turtles' reasoning was instinctual; the man was far warmer than any old sand dune. His body temperature was hotter than the temperature of the sand because of his ability to summon fire, a latent ability which demonstrated its own power through body temperature.

The second reason why the morning was so strange was because of the spear tips pointing at Perseus's head. It was strange though now that Perseus thought about it, not completely unexpected considering the war zone he was in. Soldiers would attack first and ask questions later. Only fast-talking would save him from being impaled.

Opening an eye and warily watching the spears, Perseus spoke in his Persian accented Greek, "I would appreciate it if you pointed those spears away from me."

Startled yelps echoed through the ranks before even more spears were pointed in Perseus's direction. They were here for the turtles, not a man! Perseus pulled the last turtle off himself and cautiously stood up, not enjoying being on the verge of death.

"Ah, yes, I suppose I should introduce myself. I am Gen-... Perseus and am here to enlist in the Greek army," Perseus narrowed his eyes at the spear poking his chest.

Soldiers parted to reveal a man in his mid-forties. He was a strong looking man with a head of brown hair and a great, bushy beard that drooped, ending just above his solar plexus. The most distinctive feature were his eyes; they were a stormy grey that sparkled with cold intelligence. Ruthless and questioning but seemingly kind. He wore a single piece of armor, a bronze breastplate, and a short sword, a Xiphos, hung by his side.

"I am Themistocles, Strategos of the Greek Navy," he announced to the stranger. "And you are?"

Perseus suppressed a smirk. So this was the man who lost the Greeks the Battle of Artemisium? Perseus thought that the Greeks ought to have removed the man from his position as General. To be fair though, he didn't actually lose the naval battle as much as retreat once their plan fell apart.

"Perseus."

Themistocles raised an eyebrow, "Any relation to the Persian Strategos who led the enemy and died at the Battle of Thermopylae?"

Perseus shrugged his shoulders, careful to keep his face void of emotion, "Unfortunately, Perseus is a fairly common name in Persia and my grandfather once participated in the first Greco-Persian war before settling down in this fair land. Considering I have not yet been stopped by the roaming armies in Greece, it is highly unlikely that I am the Persian you claim me to be."

Themistocles eyed the young man approvingly. He had presented a valid enough argument...for the time being. He spoke one word, "Follow."

...

As the two men and the rest of the scouting party marched inland the kilometer needed to reach the main camp, Themistocles eyed the boy appraisingly. He was young, this was certain, and was obviously battle-hardened considering that he could keep up with the double-time march he had ordered. The boy, Perseus, Themistocles reminded himself, was an oddity of a man. Well, at the very least, he brought his own weapons and armor.

Perseus kept shifting his eyes to peer warily at the enemies- men surrounding him. He detested having no routes of escape but it was necessary if he wanted to slay Xerxes. Perseus already knew the God-King's plan of attack. He had designed it, after all though he wouldn't put it past the cunning bastard to alter the strategy.

Xerxes, being the impatient king that he is, would soon launch a full-scale naval assault into the Straits of Salamis with the entirety of his warships to block the two escape routes available in the Straits. Unfortunately for the Persian king, the Straits were, well, straits. The Straits of Salamis were extremely narrow and slower in comparison to the small Greek vessels that could switch directions on a dime. The Persian navy would be utterly crushed.

Finally, the marching scout party reached the campsite. It was basic, the only things in sight were small tents, four men per tent. Not a single lavish item in sight. The Athenians' reputation preceded them. They were smart to not bring any items other than the basic necessities; it would have only slowed them down.

"Your tent," Themistocles gestured vaguely in the distance to a smattering of tents. "We take to the seas at dawn. Come find me, you will be joining my ship."

Perseus nodded his assent, thankful that no more questions would be asked of him. The Greeks were in dire need of men and as a result, would not usually ask more than your name and fighting capabilities.

Perseus headed toward where Themistocles had vaguely pointed to. He had decided on meditation, lunch, meditation, dinner, and sleeping as his course of action. Yesterday's distance swimming had taken up to much of his energy.

...

To say in a few words, Perseus was absolutely correct. Xerxes had done exactly as Perseus had predicted now that he no longer led the Persian army. And now, the Greeks tasted the certain victory and thirsted for the blood of the enemy.

"Look there, young Perseus, the figure upon the throne scowling in the distance, do you know who that is?" Themistocles questioned, pointing at a nearby cliff.

"Ah," Perseus said amidst the triumphant roar of the Greeks. "That would be my target, the arrogant king of Persia."

Without a word more, Perseus summoned his power over wind, a power inherited from his father's own powers, and lifted himself off the deck of the Greek trireme and into the air. Slowly, because Perseus had yet to become familiar with the sensation of flight, he slowly directed the wind to move himself forward so that he flew in the direction of Xerxes.

"My gods," Themistocles breathed in awe, "a demigod!"

Xerxes was, in all definitions of the word, a proud man. He was handsome, with aristocratic features such as his sharp, brown eyes, a strong jaw, shaped cheekbones, a crown of black hair smoothed over. He had no need to resort to the royal concubines to have a woman lay with him. Xerxes possessed a wily intelligence and was a more than capable swordsman, holding his own even against the Immortals themselves, the most skilled warriors of the entire empire. He was Xerxes, the fourth bearer of the title, King of Kings.

Of course, none of these attributes helped him from nearly wetting his royal garments when he saw what should have been a dead man, flying in the sky, heading towards him at a casual distance, as if the man already knew the fate of the king.

Xerxes had suspected for a while now that Perseus was a demigod. He had a strong hatred for the young General who had once been nothing but a common street rat. He abhorred anyone in a position of power who had not gained the position through their family. Xerxes knew that Perseus was a demigod when he had had a servant slip an odorless, tasteless poison into Perseus's goblet of wine one night while having the boy over dinner to discuss campaign strategies.

Perseus had survived the night quite comfortably in a luxurious bed, leaving a fuming king contemplating the many ways to kill the demigod. He could not outright kill the demigod since he was a General and in a position of great influence. Xerxes had hoped that by sending Perseus to war in a foreign country with other gods Xerxes would soon eliminate, Perseus would soon succumb to the power these other gods possessed. Xerxes had been elated to hear that some mysterious woman had struck down the mighty warrior.

The king's happiness was soon crushed as Perseus's sandals touched the ground before the elaborately carved throne. Perseus smiled coldly as he drew King Leonidas's sword from his back. Perseus looked like a fearsome god, hellbent on vengeance, with fire in his eyes and narrowing of his eyebrows.

"Hail Xerxes, God-King of Persia," Perseus mocked.

Xerxes immediately stood up, drawing the steel sword from his waist and taking a stance, "Ah, Perseus. I had heard reports that you died in the Battle of Thermopylae."

"I did." Perseus adopted his own stance, Leonidas's sword drawn horizontally so as not to be caught off guard.

"Demigod scum," Xerxes hissed before running towards Perseus, eager to finally kill the traitorous Persian.

The sound of clashing swords rang in both their ears. Perseus, with his superior strength, repelled the Persian king, gaining a wider ground for swifter movement in the process. An exchange of blows demonstrated Perseus's dominating skill with a sword.

The beginning of the end when Xerxes sent a sword slash to Perseus's right leg. Perseus gritted his teeth for a moment, but that moment was all Xerxes needed to press his advantage. He began slashing skillfully, disarming Perseus, and forcing Perseus to the ground at sword point.

"Tell me, former General, how does it feel to lose?" Xerxes grinned at Perseus's grimace as he plunged his sword into Perseus's hand. Persian warriors were trained to endure pain.

Perseus managed a small smile, "I wouldn't know. Perhaps you would have better luck asking your navy."

"What are you going on...IMPOSSIBLE! What in Anahita's name happened to my navy?" Xerxes wailed as he saw his navy utterly out-maneuvered and efficiently destroyed with a minimal amount of damage to the Greek vessels.

"Probably the same thing that's happening to you," Xerxes grunted as his legs fell from beneath him, forcing him to the ground.

Perseus immediately grabbed Leonidas's sword and attempted to stab Xerxes but struck only the ground as Xerxes rolled, lifting himself off the ground with his sword in his hands. However, now Xerxes's back was to the cliff.

Perseus immediately got up from the ground and fended off the cascade of slashes and stabs that Xerxes sent his way to try and gain ground away from the edge of the cliff. Perseus held his ground and managed a counter-attack, landing several blows on Xerxes's inadequately designed armor, causing the iron breastplate to fall to the ground in tatters.

Xerxes snarled as he tried to initiate one last offensive, his very survival depending on these last few sword strikes. Perseus immediately negated Xerxes's vertical cut by forcing the sword on his bronze vambrace, effectively halting the next string of sword slashes Xerxes had planned. Twisting his own arm, Perseus disarmed the Persian king and imbedded Leonidas's sword in Xerxes's heart.

"For the demigods of Persia- my fallen brethren!"

Xerxes's eyes widened at the unexpected intrusion and stumbled back towards the edge of the cliff. Perseus lunged and managed to retrieve Leonidas's sword from Xerxes's chest before forming a fist with his left hand and colliding his fist with Xerxes's head, toppling the king over the cliff.

Perseus stood panting, watching the near-dead king fall into the water. Perseus smiled coldly as he saw the tell-tale sign of fins nearing the body of the king, now thrashing in his final struggle for survival.

The Persian demigod turned around, satisfied that Xerxes's death was imminent, and spotted Xerxes's sword, a blade passed down through the rulers of Persia since Achaemenes, the first king of Persia. Perseus picked up the sword, observing it. It was well used and he spotted hairline fractures near its core. It would have to be repaired before being used again.

After putting Leonidas's sword and Xerxes's sword on his back, Perseus began heading inland, intent on completing one final task. He mentally berated himself for underestimating the skill of the Persian king as he limped. A thought came to his mind that left him with a wry smile but in high spirits. He spoke aloud.

"At the rate I'm collecting swords, I will have to settle down soon to house the swords I am bound to collect."

~A70 Ch9~

**A/N: I suppose I should have updated sooner but things do happen...such as school...and getting addicted to Harry Potter fanfiction. Rest assured, I will continue to update this story though with less frequency. I would be eternally (heh) grateful for any tips to improve the writing of fighting scenes (unless you happen to think its good) and hopefully, you enjoyed this chapter.**


	10. The Formerly Immortal Hesperide

~A70 Ch10~

It had been a year since that fateful when Perseus slew the King of Persia, effectively sparking a major Persian retreat. In that year, Perseus had done something so outrageous that if he were still leader of the Persian infantry, he would have been immediately thrown out before being beheaded for such blatant laziness.

Perseus had taken a vacation.

The demigod had realized that he was no longer a servant of the royal family but his own man. He could do anything he wanted without fear of repercussions, not that he actually feared anyone or anything in the first place.

To say in the least, Perseus had found that not killing people was quite liberating. That's not to say he didn't kill people because when people challenged him, he would give no quarter, but to kill people of his own will rather than to be ordered to kill, that was something that Perseus enjoyed immensely.

Of course, the majority of the time, Perseus had not ended up killing fellow humans but rather peculiar beings ranging from largish, black dogs, feisty in temperament and relentless in pursuit to women who while initially appeared beautiful were actually quite disgusting creatures with flaming hair, alabaster skin, piercing red eyes that cut through your soul and targeted your lust, and fangs which were used to pierce the skin of the victim as well as having one bronze leg and one donkey leg.

These creatures roamed the countryside, attacking any human they came across. For the common man, it was a dangerous time. For the wealthy, it was a slightly less dangerous time. At least the wealthy could hire men to fight for them. The common man was forced to rely on his own skill- or luck in avoiding such creatures.

The past year had found Perseus roaming Greece, quite contentedly now that there was no chance for anyone to recognize him since the Persian army was in full retreat. He had been observing the culture of the foreign city-states and had become mostly relaxed in personality though with the monsters roaming around, his skills with a sword had only increased since remaining in Greece.

Dawn found Perseus traveling in a forest untraveled by most men. The rumors surrounding the forest put the fear of Zeus and Hera into them. The rumor claimed that the forest led to a beautiful garden that housed five striking immortal ladies who adored men especially since they hadn't seen a man since Heracles. But Perseus wasn't interested in the women.

What did interest him was legend surrounding the guardian of the garden. Rumor and legend both claimed that the terrible guardian was a hundred headed, flightless, serpentine dragon with two sets of glimmering, sharp teeth per head and spat an incurable poison that even those with the strongest of constitutions could only survive for a few minutes before their untimely but expected death.

Perseus wondered how he would fare against this considerable foe if he were forced to fight against the terrible Ladon. Though Perseus probably would fight Ladon considering that he planned on aggravating the beast.

The walk through the forest was eerie despite the sunlight streaming through gaps in between the canopy blanketing the forest floor. Not a sound could be heard save for the sound of the walking man and his small intakes of breath. Even in the harsh deserts of Persia, one could rely upon the shifting sands and desert storms to create some sort of noise. Not that Perseus minded, a quiet man by nature and attracted a company of silence.

When the sun peaked in the sky, Perseus finally reached the opposite end of the unnamed forest. A clearing filled with unobscured sunlight tantalized Perseus though he made no move to quicken his pace. Patience was a virtue he learned quite well in his desert survival training. To enter a strange location with no foreknowledge was the equivalent of being killed for sheer stupidity.

He walked to the edge of the clearing and stopped. Before him loomed the most beautiful garden in all creation. Flora and fauna from the most common of species to the rarest existed in this garden. Petals of lavender and magenta, swirls of vermillion and maroon, hues of green, shades of blue, tints of gold, and hundreds more colors all coalesced to form the enchanting garden. The most magnificent tree was the most eye-catching figure. The tree was situated on the top of a small rise, giving it a grander appearance. Two things stood out from the tree. The first were golden apples known as the Apples of Immortality, giving any being who consumed said apple eternal life. The second was the serpentine dragon wrapped around the thick trunk of the tree, peering in all directions with its hundred heads.

Just as Perseus was about to step out of the forest and into the view of Ladon, a sound stopped him. It was a strange and heart-stopping sound; it was strange because the forest had been silent until now and heart-stopping because there was only one time he had ever heard the sound before. The invasion of Thebes.

It was the sound of a crying child.

Perseus warily made his way towards the sound. In his native land, there were demons that used this tactic to trap and kill unweary mortals. Though Perseus had never encountered such a demon, in this foreign land with all sorts of monsters roaming about, it paid to be careful.

Soon enough, Perseus happened upon a small clearing with several tree stumps and fallen trees. In the middle of this natural chaos sat a young girl with her back turned towards Perseus. In one hand, she wielded a three and a half foot bronze blade. She was the source of the crying.

Perseus was confused as to what to do. The army had never taught him how to deal with children- especially young girls who sobbed as if they had their heart torn out.

To attract the attention of the girl, Perseus coughed loudly over the girl's crying. Immediately, the girl spun as she stood and leveled her sword at Perseus, her eyes narrowing in anger.

"Y-you would do well to stay away from me," the girl managed to get her tears under control.

Perseus shrugged. He had only followed the sound of the wailing to satisfy his own curiosity. Now that that was done, he would be on his way to challenge Ladon. He turned to walk away.

"W-wait..." The girl's voice lowered into a whisper. "Please?"

Perseus turned to face the girl once more. She was twelve, perhaps thirteen years old and was quite beautiful. Her long, black hair cascaded to the small of her back. She had eyes the color of volcanic rock, coppery skin, and the features of royalty with high cheekbones, a slightly jutted chin, and an excellent fighting stance as if she had been taught to fight by a competent fighter. She was quite pleasing to look at. He raised an eyebrow and waited for the girl to speak.

"Why have you come here?" She asked softly. Her voice rang across the silent forest.

"Curiosity."

"What were you curious about?"

"I was curious as to who was trying to wake up the dead."

The girl blushed prettily. Perseus preferred her now rosy cheeks to her tear-stained cheeks from a minute ago. It was a good look for her.

"I wasn't trying to wake up the dead!" She protested indignantly.

Perseus snorted, "Could have fooled me."

The girl surprised Perseus by transforming her sword into a hair clip and fastening it to her before sitting down on a tree stump and gesturing for Perseus to come and sit down on a nearby tree stump. Perseus held back a sigh as he went over the girl and sat down on the stump. Why did he have the feeling that he wasn't going to be getting to fight anything any time soon?

The girl beamed at Perseus as he sat down. She had been unsure if the strange man would listen to her or not but she supposed that he had only sat down because he was being kind. A rare thing...especially after the immortal bastard had tricked her a second time.

"I'm Zoë," she stated proudly. "What's your name?"

"Perseus."

"Do you want to know why I was crying?" Zoë asked shyly.

Perseus bit back a negative response and instead motioned for her to tell her tale. It wasn't as if he had hundred headed dragons to fight.

"What you should know about me is that I am much older than the twelve years I appear to be. I was once a Hesperide, one of five immortal guardians of the Tree of Immortality," Zoë peered at Perseus as if waiting for him to say something before finally coming to the conclusion that he would be keeping his thoughts to himself and continued. "Today, I was disowned by my father, the Titan of Strength and Endurance, Atlas, because twice, I helped a...man...to take an apple from the the Tree of Immortality. Because I was disowned, I lost my immortality and because this was the form I was in when I lost my immortality, this is the form that will age with me."

Perseus said nothing but questions raced through his mind. Who was this man that Zoë had helped. If she were immortal, how could she have helped him twice? Why did she help the man in the first place? Why did she act like a shy twelve year old if she was, in fact, older than she said she was?

_ I suppose I should ask a question_, Perseus thought wryly as Zoë's eyes pleaded for him to question her.

"Who was this man?" Perseus asked.

Zoë grimaced before replying, "Heracles. I helped him once when he was an immortal hero and the second time when he was made a god for his services for Olympus in the war against Gaea."

"Why did you help him?"

Zoë offered the physically older man a shy smile, "He promised to marry me the first time but left me to deal with my family when he got what he wanted. They forgave me but when I assisted him in dealing with Ladon a second time so that he could pick yet another apple, it was the final straw. I don't blame them for disowning me; I would have wanted to do the same if it were someone else."

Perseus continued his inquiry, "Why did you help him a second time?"

Zoë sighed and began talking almost as if to herself, "I thought he had changed. He certainly acted kinder and said that he had come back for me and wanted a golden apple as a wedding gift from me. I agreed but as you can see, it did not turn out as I had hoped."

"And do you want revenge against this hero?"

Zoë's eyes sparkled with a fiery determination, "Yes."

Perseus nodded, "Good luck."

They sat in silence for a while, Perseus because he wasn't sure if it was rude to leave and Zoë because she was contemplative. From the corner of her eye, rather than merely look at the man, she observed him.

Perseus was the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes upon. Then again, she had rarely ever had the fortune of meeting men since most men were far too fearful of Ladon to go anywhere near the garden. He had raven colored hair that reached to his shoulders and looked as if it had been washed recently and bright, sea-green eyes that looked tired but sparkled with cheerfulness and intelligence.

The man wore simple clothing colored a faded black. He wore battered bronze armor with a sword on his left hip. His black hair was covered by a head covering made of straw, a _petasos_, if Zoë recalled correctly. Perseus was tall compared to the few mortals she had encountered and powerful judging by his arm and leg muscles. He was obviously a warrior.

Zoë flushed crimson as Perseus caught her staring and gave her an amused smile. She looked away embarrassedly before looking at the man once more and began gathering her courage to speak to him.

"Do you think you could help me in getting my revenge?"

Perseus raised an eyebrow at her.

Zoë began to babble, "I mean, I do not want you to get revenge for me. I want to get my own revenge but I need to train first. My father, Atlas, trained me in the way of the sword before he was imprisoned under the sky but he is a master with javelins not swords. I have the strength to wield swords but I am not truly comfortable with them. They have too much weight."

Perseus considered the girl. She had the potential to be a great warrior. She was obviously dedicated. She claimed to have great strength which was only a boon when it came to fighting. And it wasn't as if he didn't have time to train her. Besides, it would be nice to have company on his solitary journey.

Perseus shrugged, "Sure."

He got up and began walking away. Just before he disappeared from Zoë's sight, he looked back and flashed her a grin.

"Coming?"

~A70 Ch10~

** A/N: Apologies for the long wait. I would like to point out that Hesperides have met few men in their immortal lives hence the reason why Zoë is shy around him. I would also like to point out that she met Perseus before Artemis (at least in my story) which is why she doesn't have an intense hatred of Perseus. Zoë is intelligent enough to realize that the man who wronged her does not share the same qualities as Perseus.**


	11. Meeting a Dead Man

~A70 Ch11~

Zoë could proudly say to anyone that she had enjoyed the final three years of the four years she had spent with Perseus.

The first year had been necessary but ultimately awkward, energy draining, and terribly boring. But especially awkward.

As a young girl who was on the verge of transforming into a young woman, her hormones had spiraled out of control. In addition to this uncontrollable, newfound sexual energy, she harbored a crush on her new companion- Perseus.

Zoë was thankful, if slightly hurt, that Perseus had repelled all her advances. A lesser man would have given in long ago, at least in her opinion. She had a fair body, certainly attractive to any of the opposite gender and on more than one occasion, had "accidentally" flaunted her body to Perseus fully unclothed. Other than an amused smile, a chaste glance at her assets, and an admonishment to put some clothes on, she had received no response from him.

When Zoë had asked why he never accepted her advances, Perseus deliberated before replying, "You are certainly among the most beautiful of women I have ever had the fortune of meeting." This had made Zoë flush with pleasure. "However, despite your marriageable age, you are naive about the world. Journey to any village in the world and I assure you that you will find the men there not as disciplined as I. Perhaps, once you are more experienced about the world we could talk about the relationship between the two of us." And then, he had the audacity to wink!

Hurt and feeling insulted, Zoë had run away to a nearby village and had nearly been violated by three men. In her terror and confusion, she had completely forgotten about her power. It was only when Perseus had come and rescued her by slaying all three men, that Zoë had come to fully appreciate Perseus. It had been through the sheer will of Tyche, the goddess of luck, that she had met a kind man rather than a vile abomination that fateful day nearly a month ago.

Zoë was also extremely grateful to Perseus because after that horrid day, he had left her too tired to feel hormonal by having her finally start her training. Not actual sword fighting as she had expected but endurance, strength, and skill training.

_Recollection_

_ After having endured a seemingly endless run that left Zoë out of breath, gasping for water and Perseus unfazed, they moved on to skill training._

_ "What in Hades's name is skill training?" Zoë asked, laying eagle-spread on the ground, trying to recover from the ridiculous long-distance run._

_ "Tell me Zoë, what skills do you possess?" Perseus questioned._

_ "Define skills," Zoë gasped._

_ "The ability to do something outside of basic necessity to live and survive. For example, I can play quite the tune on the reeds as well as dance with the best of dancers."_

_ "You know how to dance?" Zoë had lifted her head to stare at the masculine man._

_ "Of course and soon enough, so will you," Perseus smiled at her flabbergasted expression._

_ "I do not mind learning to dance but I would like to learn the reason why I must," Zoë responded, finally managing to regain some semblance of energy._

_ "From what you tell me of Heracles," Zoë's curiosity transformed into a scowl. "He relies on his strength to win his battles. He has no refined technique instead utilizing the tried-and-true hack and slash style to batter down his opponent before finally defeating them. However, if he is unable to touch you, he will be unable to defeat you. By incorporating dancing into your fighting style, you will be able to easily keep away from Heracles's attacks while inflicting several of your own attacks on him."_

_ Zoë was doubtful of this until an hour later when a pack of hellhounds had come across them. Despite being fast, they were horrendously outmatched by Perseus who had demonstrated his earlier theory by easily keeping out of reach of their teeth and claws while killing them with several, well-placed jabs of his sword._

_ And if that hadn't been enough, the touch of Perseus's calloused hands on her legs and arms to fix her posture certainly erased any of her doubts._

_ End Recollection_

Her second year with Perseus had been more productive. Perseus had finally begun the basics of fighting after he had gifted his broken blade to her. Of course, it had been salvaged and crafted into a thirty centimeter knife for her. Zoë had declared the knife, made of Persian bronze and forged by Verethragna himself to kill the numerous demons of Persia, the perfect weapon. It could inflict damage on both mortals and monsters alike with ease. Later on, he had given her an exact replica of her first knife when she had progressed to dual-wielding.

Her third and fourth years with Perseus had been much like her second year. In addition to continuing to developing her skill with close combat, she had taken up archery. Perseus had shown her the basics of archery including how to wield a bow, targeting an enemy and how to conserve strength when shooting. All Persians were required to be competent in archery but Perseus wasn't much better than that. Zoë took immense pleasure in being better than Perseus in archery, especially after being trounced by him every time they sparred.

Zoë finally ended her reminiscing by standing up and stretching herself. She had grown quite a bit in the past four years both physically and mentally. Physically, she had grown a head and a half taller and while tall compared to most other women, still was not as tall as Perseus. She had kept her hair the same length except had tied it into a single braid after Perseus had commented that her hair would get in her way in an actual fight.

Zoë had also grown adept at reading people's expressions. She was no longer the naive girl that Perseus had found crying on a tree stump but a young, independent woman who could hold her own against the greatest of warriors. Zoë had grown to be extremely wary of males and females alike. The only person she trusted with her life was, ironically enough, the only person whose expression she couldn't read, Perseus.

Perseus himself stood a few meters away from Zoë, observing her but giving away no emotion so as not to give her hints for finding their prey. He had taken the same advice he had given Zoë and had tied his own long hair into a single lock using two separate strands of white string. He wore his usual armor but had crossed his arms. Judging from the age of the tracks that Zoë had been observing, it would be quite a while before they encountered the lair of the dragon.

After stretching her sore muscles, Zoë groaned, "We have to climb a mountain."

Perseus finally smirked, "Correct. Because it is sunset we will rest in Delphi before traveling up Mount Kriphis."

...

Perseus and Zoë set out before dawn the following day. Perseus ended up carrying everything they owned including food and armor because Zoë had claimed that she needed to save her energy to battle the beast they were tracking.

Zoë's smirk told him otherwise.

The mountain itself was not as tall as its counterpart to the south, Mount Parnassus, and rather than a peak, it was imploded as if a meteor had hit the mountain before mysteriously disappearing. It was there where they expected to find the dragon that had been terrorizing Delphi and its countryside.

After having climbed the mountainside for hours, they finally neared the peak of the mountain and stopped to rest. After sharing some water and food, they continued, leaving their belongings near the tree they were situated.

Perseus and Zoë finally had the crater in view and crawled the last hundred meters, hoping to avoid capturing the attention of the dragon before Zoë was ready.

What they saw nearly made Zoë cry out in horror.

There were several dragons in the middle of the crater, all different sizes and colors. Their target was the largest dragon, black with white markings, and a set of sharp, white, pointy teeth that made the duo nervous. Surrounding these few dragons were hundreds if not thousands of serpents, again, of all sizes and colors.

They had happened upon a serpentine nest.

"I was not expecting this," Perseus murmured to Zoë. "The tracks told of one dragon, not of an entire nest."

"M-maybe we should come back another day. Or wait for Sybaris to attack Delphi and then attack it then," Zoë suggested.

The sound of multiple arrows beginning to nock was the only warning they had.

Of the two, only Perseus, through his battle-honed reflexes, managed to get up quick enough from the ground and draw his sword to point it at their would-be attacker, a girl the same age as Zoë with warm, auburn hair, eyes the color of liquid silver, and dressed in silvery clothing, just as the girl finished nocking her bow.

Curious silver met battle-hardened sea-green.

The two realized who each other was at the same time.

_The General of Persian infantry._

_The woman who killed me._

...

Artemis had always considered herself to be among the most just of the gods. For the most part, it was true. Despite her vendetta against men, she only inflicted pain or killed them if they truly deserved it.

Her opinion of herself had changed during the Olympian Council meeting regarding the Battle of Thermopylae. They had all seen the ferociousness that was the Persian General and how his command of tactics and stratagems easily outwitted the Greek army.

Athena had been quick to point out that the man who slew Leonidas would be the deciding factor in the Greco-Persian war. Thusly, after hearing Athena's advice, Zeus had commanded Ares to engage and kill him in battle and should he have failed, for Artemis to kill him while his back was turned.

When the Council had reconvened the following day, short a war god, they observed through Iris Messaging, a new communication system that was developed by none other than the goddess of rainbows herself, as Ares fell to the seemingly unstoppable mortal.

Zeus had nodded to her and without further delay, Artemis had flashed herself to the battlefield and attacked the Persian General while his back was turned towards her. In an awe-inspiring display of great skill and instinct for battle, the man had actually turned towards her only to meet her knife to his heart.

Artemis watched as his eyes flashed multiple expressions in the span of a second as the life drained out of him. Surprise. Shock. Curiosity. And finally, acceptance. Then, he had closed his eyes and died.

As she flashed out of the battlefield and to her place to grieve the loss of morals, she had forgotten her silver hunting knife.

The man occupied her thoughts many a night as she drove across the night sky, illuminating a faint path for weary travelers. It was not the man himself that occupied her thoughts (though he too was a depressing thought) but what the loss of that man's life represented. It represented the loss of her sense of justice. A lapse of judgement.

While she appreciated that they had been in a warring time, they man, however horrid he had been outside of battle, still deserved an honorable death not an assassination.

Was that what she was to her father? A tool to be used by Zeus for whatever purposes he required regardless of her own morals and beliefs?

Well, no longer. She had decided on her goal. To be as fair a goddess as she could possibly be no matter the consequences that Zeus might inflict on her. She would no longer condone acts of injustice.

Artemis only hoped that she would remember this.

A few years after the retreat of Persian army following the death of the arrogant Persian king, Zeus had summoned her. It had surprised Artemis because other than the required Summer Solstice and Winter Solstice Council meetings and her younger brother, Apollo, she had rarely met with other gods.

"Artemis!" Zeus boomed. "How have you been? It has been long since we have spoken as father and daughter."

_The reason being that you did not pause in your copulations with women long enough to speak any of the gods, including I._ With this in mind, Artemis smiled an almost predatory smile. "So it has, father."

"A task for you then, my daughter, to celebrate our relationship," Zeus proclaimed, smiling at Artemis.

Artemis withheld the temptation to roll her eyes. Zeus was always like this, trying to wheedle the other gods to do things for him giving pitiful excuses such as the previous one. Artemis decided to hear what Zeus had to say before outright denying him.

"The town of Delphi has, for the past several weeks, been terrorized by the dragon, Sybaris. Because the gods may not interfere in mortal affairs, I cannot help them. However, you daughter, by leading your little gir... handmaidens," Zeus quickly amended, seeing his daughter's warning glare, "can kill the dragon."

"Why do you not consult Apollo for a prophecy to slay Sybaris?" Artemis questioned. "Surely you would want one of your children to claim honor and glory for the death of such a mighty dragon?"

Zeus shifted his electric blue eyes nervously, a telltale sign that Zeus was, for whatever reason, withholding information. Artemis narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

"He...he did not have a prophecy. In any case Artemis, go forth and slay Sybaris to save the people of Delphi," Zeus deflected before flashing out, leaving no room to be disobeyed.

Artemis scowled at Zeus's empty throne.

The following day, an hour after dawn, Artemis met with her handmaidens in a camp near Delphi.

"Milady," Aurelia, the current Lieutenant of the Hunt and daughter of Apollo, bowed to Artemis. "What is our next course of action? Our sisters grow weary of inaction."

"We leave camp here but we must climb Mount Kriphis. Lord Zeus has commanded us to slay the dragon Sybaris. Are the rest of our sisters ready?" Artemis explicated.

At Aurelia's nod, Artemis continued, "Have them ready themselves for battle. In a quarter hour, we climb the mountain."

Hours later, Artemis and her handmaidens had come across a peculiar sight. Three bags of leather laid under the shade of a tall tree. It was as if someone had gotten to the lair of the dragon before they had.

A few minutes later, they encountered a man and woman on their stomachs observing something in the crater beyond.

As Artemis and her handmaidens nocked their bows, a hissing sound emerged, and quicker than a flash of lightning, the man had drawn his sword and leveled it at her throat as Artemis finally fully nocked her bow and aimed it at the man.

_The man was handsome- at least Aphrodite would think so,_ Artemis amended her thoughts. He had black hair tied into a single strand and had quite the muscular physique. Then, she met his eyes.

Eyes the color of a green sea clashed with those the color of a liquid moon.

~A70 Ch11~

**A/N: I hadn't actually expected to post so quickly but I had gotten in the mood to write. Hopefully, I managed to portray the awkwardness of puberty in girls around handsome men but if not, I plead ignorance based on the fact that I am male. And yes, there will be sexual innuendo mostly because I find it hard to believe that a man could go two thousand years without it. You only need to look at the male Olympians as proof. **

**Additionally, to the guest who reviewed concerning weapons- I had, in a previous chapter, mentioned that Perseus's own sword had broken and is currently using Leonidas's sword- a sword that cuts mortals and monsters alike based on the reasoning that the Mist only came after monsters became too much for mortals to bear. **


	12. Never Ever Do This!

~A70 Ch12~

"You?!" Artemis was completely astonished to meet a dead person, one she had irrevocably killed, walking on two legs with a companion on top of a mountain. She lowered her bow in her confusion, prompting her handmaidens to do the same.

The moment their eyes met, Perseus knew he had a decision to make. He could kill the goddess, humiliate her, or he could pretend that he didn't know her.

Why not all three?

"I'm sorry," Perseus began as politely as possible and even went so far as to lower his weapon, "I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting a beautiful lady such as yourself."

"I know you to be the Persian General of the infantry! I killed you! I saw you-" Artemis started to say only to be cut off by the man before her.

"While you may mistake me for someone you've killed, I assure you that I am fully alive and well and I would like to stay alive and well so please, keep quiet," Perseus interrupted the goddess, committing an action so deplorable that if Artemis hadn't wanted to discover the reason why the man was still alive, she would have killed him where he stood.

He raised his arm and pinched the bridge of her nose.

It certainly worked in silencing her if only for a minute.

"HOW DARE-" Artemis was cut off yet again only this time, by an unforgivable act.

Perseus released her rather adorable button nose, leaned his face towards hers, and muzzled her by pressing his lips against hers.

For Artemis, it was an indescribable experience. Her very first kiss...from a dead man. But his lips didn't feel cold and clammy. Rather, they were chapped but gentle in their probing. If that that hadn't convinced her of his vitality, the small flicks of his tongue against hers surely did. _Stars_, thought Artemis. _This must be how a star feels like when it explodes._ She resisted the urge to lift her foot, trying to retain some semblance of control.

All too soon, the man pulled away and smiled gently, "Now, can I trust you to keep quiet?"

It was the man's companion that made Artemis come to her senses.

"Perseus," the girl hissed at him. "You kissed Artemis!"

The man blinked in confusion, "Artemis? Artemis. Now, why does that name sound so familiar?"

As Artemis realized exactly what had transpired, the girl continued to speak, "Artemis is a goddess!"

The man looked as if her mulling over her words, "Exactly. She's a goddess. Don't your gods and goddesses come down to the terrestrial plane and search for lovers? Why is it so surprising that I kissed her?"

"A maiden goddess!"

The man appeared contemplative, "We all are born maidens or virgins depending on our gender. The majority of us lose that virginity eventually."

"Our Lady took an oath! How dare you steal a kiss from her lips!" Aurelia found herself yelling at the impudent man. What he had done to her lady was despicable!

"Oaths like rules, can be broken," Perseus countered. He wondered why everyone was making such a big deal out of a single kiss. It wasn't as if he had taken her maidenhood.

Artemis shuddered. How could she have fallen prey to such an advance? Was she not a maiden goddess who swore to never entertain the notion of being with a man? And yet, here she was, feeling tingly and strange all because she had been kissed. By a dead man, no less!

Her thoughts of being kissed by a dead man cemented her stance on men. "HOW DARE YOU-"

The man's sigh made her pause incredulously. Did he really have the nerve to sigh in the middle of her tirade?

Perseus had sighed because he could no longer hear the continuous snore of the dragons nor the gentle hiss of serpents. It had grown quiet which almost certainly meant that the nest behind them had grown active and were slowly creeping to where the loudest noise originated from, namely, them.

"It is strange. In the past five years, I have had much time to ponder you. You did kill me in Thermopylae and my only thought in the first year after my death was to kill you," Artemis waited, wondering if the man had a point.

"But, I came to the realization that all was fair in war. Even though you gave me a dishonorable death, I forgave you and not because I couldn't find you," Perseus added wryly, a small smile playing on the corner of his freshly kissed lips.

Then, he glowered at her, his voice changing to match his expression, "But you continue to persist in being loud and as a result, you and your collection of playthings have awoken the nest. You are a maiden goddess, correct? Then, become a sacrifice so that we and your fair companions may escape unharmed!"

As Artemis wondered what in Zeus's name the man who kissed was going on about, Perseus grabbed a fistful of her shirt and summoning the power of the bull which granted him limitless strength, launched the maiden goddess into the crater, startling every inhabitant before they launched a ferocious attack, intent on devouring the tasty looking goddess.

Just before Perseus descended the mountain, he spoke to Artemis's handmaidens, "I wouldn't suggest following her. You may want to be off this mountain by the time your goddess explodes."

Perseus was right. As soon as the last of Artemis's handmaidens stepped off Mount Kriphis, the mountain exploded in a fervor of Olympian rage, roaring dragons, and a multitude of flying rocks. Perseus, Zoë, and Artemis's handmaidens took cover in a nearby outcropping of solid, sturdy rocks.

In the shelter only one voice spoke in the hours they would remain there. Perseus smiled sweetly, tilted his head to one side, and innocently asked, "Is she like this often?"

...

Artemis was angered beyond belief and livid with rage. She was a storm waiting to crash onto the shores of Greece to wreak havoc and destruction wherever she might go. And as soon as she felt the last of her handmaidens leave the mountain, she immediately assumed her divine form.

Her divine form had never before been fueled by rage. It was a lot more powerful than any other time she had assumed her true form in combat. Serpents melted from the sheer intensity and dragons cried out in horror before being incinerated, an ironic end to the fire based creatures.

Only the dragon Sybaris, the largest of the dragons, managed to escape an untimely end with a great wingbeat, using wind to deflect Artemis's radiance long enough to escape to the sky.

In her anger, she never noticed the figure that rode Sybaris.

But Artemis's uncontrollable fury had not yet begun to subside. After having decimated the nest, she turned to the only available thing to destroy.

Mount Kriphis.

She redirected her surge of power to the center of the crater, gathering her energy and condensing it into a single stream that ate the rocky earth like a fire to a forest. Almost immediately, the mountain trembled before finally convulsing in a storm of rocks and formerly dormant magma that made even Zeus shudder in fear as he felt his daughter's awesome fury.

It would be hours before Mount Kriphis dissolved into a molten plain.

...

Hours later, Perseus stood up from the makeshift shelter and stretched his sore muscles. He probably could have escaped on his own but he couldn't very well leave Zoë to the handmaidens.

"As fun as it was to be in an enclosed space with ten girls in the middle of transforming into women in addition to my companion, I believe it is time to leave. Come, Zoë," Perseus favored Artemis's huntresses with a smile before quickly walking away. After giving the Hunters of Artemis an apologetic smile, Zoë quickly followed Perseus.

"Hold on," Aurelia commanded, catching up to the duo. "You must stay with us until Lady Artemis recovers and grants us the pleasure of her presence.

Perseus turned around and gave the wind nymph an odd smile. "You're giving me orders. After I just finished obliterating a mountain from existence. Really?"

Aurelia gaped at him. The man was actually claiming to have destroyed a mountain after they had all clearly seen that Lady Artemis had ended the existence of the mountain? The swine!

"Artemis destroyed the mountain!" One of Artemis's handmaidens called from behind Aurelia.

A chorus of agreement rebutted Perseus's claim.

"No, I did," Perseus argued. "She would never have thought to do so until I threw her into the nest. Technically, the obliteration of the mountain resulted from my actions so the credit goes to me."

Zoë watched Perseus in amusement as he tried to claim credit for decimating a mountain. He was cute when he was like this; it was a side he had rarely shown. Arguing like a child. It was nice to see that even a man as refined as he could be lowered to an indignant child.

Of course, he wasn't to be underestimated in the slightest. He was often humorous, something that Zoë had needed from her lonely immortality. She had never been close to any of her family, not her mother who had gifted her her only sword, _Anaklumos_, her father who had been trapped with the sky's burden since the end of the Titanomachy long ago, or her sisters who mostly kept to themselves. Her loneliness was the reason why she had sought her destiny with Heracles but had been betrayed...twice.

But Perseus. Perseus was the most wondrous man she had ever met and in the four years she had traveled with him, she had met a multitude of unsavory characters. He was a kind man. She had seen him on countless occasions when he thought she wasn't looking give away drachmas to the impoverished people they encountered, embracing each and every one of them while muttering good fortune in their ears.

To Zoë, Perseus was that slightly older uncle impossible not to crush on. The fun uncle who would gift her with odd little trinkets she had admired in the village. He was the older brother who often played pranks on her from dying her hair a bright red using dye to filling her clothing with an assortment of insects.

Perseus was also a father to her. A kind father who patient in explaining anything she asked from him. A father who had the misfortune of teaching her about her own body and how men would try and take advantage of her. Zoë visibly blushed. That had been the most embarrassing day of her life to date. But he was also a father who taught her many things from mathematics and cooking (he claimed he was older and as such, got tired than her) to his (and now her) favorite subject of astronomy. The stars were pretty and eternal, something that reminded her of her immortality. They would be there long after she died and for some strange reason, that knowledge comforted her.

Zoë couldn't sort out her feelings concerning Perseus. On one hand, she loved him like family- a family who cared about her unconditionally and paid attention to the most minute details. On the other hand, she liked him in a way that was completely unrelated to family. He was sweet when he wanted to be and had an intelligence about him that made Zoë think that he was much more than the simple soldier from Persia he claimed to be. The goddess Artemis had said something about him being a general. Even so, he was the ideal man for her. Her feelings about Perseus were tied tightly into a single strand and she knew that she wouldn't be able to sort then out until she escaped her dreaded puberty.

"Ah." The single word broke Zoë from her musings. She looked curiously at Perseus, who had spoken the single, gentle word.

"I was wondering when you would arrive. There are no more children for you to devour and your nest is obliterated. I suppose the scent of so many attractive girls who are still considered children was too much for you to resist?" Everyone stared at Perseus as if he were insane. He was talking as if there was someone else around!

"How did you know?" A voice hissed as she shimmered into appearance. "I am not visssible to you and I concealed my ssscent ssso well that not even the Goddessss of the Hunt herssself could ssseek me out through sssmell."

Perseus and Zoë turned around only to meet a horrifically beautiful creature. From waist up, she had the appearance of a normal woman. Ebony colored skin, shapely breasts covered with a thin layer of fabric, and enchanting black eyes that screamed royalty. She licked her seductive, red lips as her gaze flickered from handmaiden to handmaiden until reaching Zoë where her eyes glinted predatorily. Waist down, she had the body of a green serpent. She remained coiled but ready to spring on a moment's notice.

"The wind still parts for the mountain yet the mountain is gone, decimated to a rocky flatland. You failed to take the wind into account," Perseus explained.

"But how did you know I wasss in Greece? Most believe I am ssstill in Libya," the monster hissed.

"I didn't even know who you were, at least, not at first. But as I questioned those who fell victim to Sybaris, a pattern emerged. After destroying their homes, their children disappeared soon afterwards. While their parents believed that Sybaris took them, no blood splotches could be found," Perseus explained. "Most dragons have rudimentary intelligence at best. They definitely lack subtlety and will not repress their urges for any amount of time."

Zoë nodded in agreement. The few dragons they had encountered followed what Perseus said. The majority of the Hunters nodded too albeit reluctantly since the theory came from a male.

"Had Sybaris been hungry at the time, she would have feasted immediately on the closest food source whether it be adult, child, or animal. However, only children disappeared in a bloodless fashion. From there, it was only a matter of researching what creatures, serpentine in nature and with the means and a will strong enough to control a dragon, focus on children. I found you. Lamia." Perseus finished.

"Very good. Unfortunately for you, I am far more powerful than anyone presssent. Artemisss has wasssted too much of her power destroying a mountain and hasss retreated. There issss no one to help you now, godlingsss," Lamia rasped.

"Excuse you," Perseus contended. "I caused a mountain to explode. You have to rely on a dragon to destroy a single home. I'm pretty sure that makes me just a little bit more powerful than you."

Lamia hissed amusedly. It took everyone a second to realize that it was the sound of her laughter. It grated on Perseus's nerves.

"You are not the caussse of the mountain'sss annihilation. I am fully resssted and have eaten more than enough children to be at my full power. The arcane artsss are at my disssposssal. You have no chance of victory," Lamia hissed.

Perseus's nose flared and he visibly struggled to hold in his laughter. He basically embodied victory! Soon, he calmed himself down and drew his sword.

"Ladies, I'd appreciate it if you restrained yourselves from involving yourselves in my fight," Perseus cracked his head to one side and then the other before straightening it and twirling Leonidas's sword in his hands before entering his stance.

Without warning, Lamia outstretched a hand towards Perseus and a deadly arc of lightning sprouted from her fingertips and raced towards Perseus at a blinding speed. Sidestepping, Perseus closed the distance between himself and the snake-woman quicker than a charging bull and with a soundless roar, struck Lamia's serpentine body. Unfortunately, Lamia's scales were as hard as diamond and Perseus was forced to retreat before he became caught in Lamia's spiral embrace.

"A child of Hermesss, hmm?" Lamia wondered as she conjured a spear and threw it at Perseus.

Perseus caught the spear in midair, a testament to his superior reflexes, and twirled it, gathering some momentum before hurling the spear at Lamia, making sure that he targeted her human upper half.

Lamia stopped the spear going into her heart with a wave of her hands and directed a massive amount of raw energy and focused it on the Persian hero. By utilizing the power of the camel, Perseus gained extreme endurance and leg strength and used this to his advantage by planting himself in the ground, avoiding the worst of the energy.

Zoë dropped to the ground and rolled as Perseus had shown her, escaping the violent energy that might have otherwise injured her. Artemis's handmaidens, unused to dealing with magical power, were blown several hundred meters away. The spear nearly impaled Aurelia.

"Impressssive godling. Not many can sssurvive that. You are indeed a worthy prey," Lamia grinned, showing off her unnaturally sharp incisors and forked tongue.

Perseus whispered as he held up a hand, "I call upon the mighty ram. Grant me a bolt of thunder like no other."

Lamia never saw it coming. A bolt of white lightning fell from the sky and impacted...her general location resulting in an electrified area and the smell of ozone in the air.

As Perseus finally reached Lamia, he observed the still spasming body of Lamia. Perseus supposed that she had conjured a magical barrier before she entered battle.

"A speed worthy of Hermes, an endurance that rivals the Titan Atlas, reflexes greater than Ares, and the ability to summon thunder like my lover himself," Lamia's voice was hoarse. "What are you?"

"Persian."

A sword inserted in her throat ensured she spoke no more. Soon after, she burst into golden dust.

"Magic seems like it could be useful," Perseus told Zoë by way of greeting.

"I did not realize you were capable of summoning thunder," Zoë said in awe. Thunder was a deadly element, difficult to control, and capable of being manipulated by a minority of beings.

"I didn't see a need to summon it until now. The first time is always the hardest," Perseus smiled.

Artemis's handmaidens soon reached the duo but before they could speak, Perseus swore loudly in Persian causing the rest of them to wonder exactly what he said.

"What's wrong?" Zoë asked.

Perseus pointed to the sky. They all turned to see a black mass in the distance with a huge wingspan.

"I forgot the dragon."

~A70 Ch12~

**A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this story hence why I updated so quickly. Hopefully that little surprise keeps you Pertemis (or is it Pertimis) lovers off my back for a while. Now, a few points to clarify.**

**1) In my research, I couldn't find Mount Kriphis anywhere in Greece only that it was near Delphi so I decided it needed a reason why it isn't on any maps today. Thus, why I obliterated it across ten universes.**

**2) According to sources, Lamia and Sybaris were used interchangably when they terrorized the city of Delphi so that happened.**

**That should about cover it. Happy reading!**


	13. God of the Dead

~A70 Ch13~

"Well Zoë, this one is yours."

"Perseus!" Zoë shouted in horror. "Don't tell me you were actually serious about making me fight Sybaris alone!"

"You do want revenge on Heracles, correct?" At Zoë's nod, Perseus continued. "I calculated Sybaris's intelligence to be just a cut above Heracles's intelligence. So if you can defeat Sybaris, you could easily defeat Heracles."

The Hunters who had met the god of strength snickered. Perseus was pretty funny...for a male.

"And exactly how did you manage to measure their intelligence?" Zoë demanded.

"Simple," Perseus yawned. "I went up to Sybaris and asked her to count to as high as she could. She showed me five people she could eat. I went up to Heracles and asked the same question. He only pointed out four women he planned on sharing his bed with that night."

"B-but what about her ability to breath fire and summon undead soldiers by chewing earth?" Zoë stammered, ignoring Perseus's previous comment. This was one of those times where she absolutely hated Perseus's train by doing technique. Brutally effective but utterly terrifying.

Perseus shrugged, "Be glad that Heracles can't do that or otherwise half of Greece would have been destroyed by now thanks to a powerful idiot running about."

"Anyways, have fun." Then, Perseus calmly strolled away. He found a smooth rock and sat down, his back against the rock, and sighed contentedly as he watched the brewing fight. All that was missing was some food and drink.

"We'll help you," Aurelia said, nocking her bow and prompting the others to do the same.

As Sybaris entered the outermost range of their bows, the Hunters began launching their arrows, each one peppering the dragon. Their arrows were all on target, a testament to their near-perfect accuracy but unfortunately, Syabris's scales were as hard as iron and only served to annoy the great beast.

Once the black dragon had landed, Perseus witnessed just how dangerous and skilled the Hunters of Artemis truly were. Their teamwork was frightening effective. They had five groups of two Hunters each and had two groups distracting the dragon while the other three girls and Zoë searched for a weakness to exploit. The only weakness Perseus could spot were her eyes but then again, the eyes were a weakness for most creatures. Unfortunately for the Hunters of Artemis and Zoë, Sybaris was thrashing about too much to blind her.

It was after a few minutes that Sybaris finally grew impatient in her game of "eat the maiden" and finally resorted to her special skills.

With a ferocious roar, Sybaris unleashed a fiery death upon the maidens. Many of the Hunters were badly burned and were forced to retreat. While the burned Hunters distributed ambrosia and nectar among themselves, safely out of range of tooth, claw, tail and fire, while Aurelia protected herself, a remaining Hunter, and Zoë by deflecting Sybaris's breath of fire using her powers over wind.

However, Sybaris's fire proved too strong and Aurelia's shield of wind faltered before collapsing. She and the other two maidens still in the fight would have died by burning had not Perseus intervened. Sensing the shift in the tide of battle as only an experienced warrior could, he leapt to his feet and immediately summoned his own wind to repel the continuous stream of fire.

It succeeded and would have killed Sybaris but she had snapped her own mouth shut with a second to spare. The fire spread across her snout before fading from existence when it encountered no substance to fuel itself.

Sybaris was not about to run with her tail between her legs when she could taste victory. With a roar louder than her first, she consumed the earth. Everyone watched in horror as several of Sybaris's earth covered teeth fell to the ground and began to enlarge until several adult skeleton warriors stood armed with ancient swords, each wearing clothes from a time beyond the gods.

And that was when all Hades broke loose.

Literally.

As soon as the spartus grew to their full height, the earth began to shudder and tremble as if something ominous was soon to occur. Even Sybaris looked about in alarm, searching for a new, more deadly opponent.

Perseus was the first to spot the anomaly in the earth. To his far right, a small crack appeared that soon grew into a fissure. From the fissure emerged two war chariots, both colored black. The two chariots were pulled by four hellhounds each; they were all easily the size of an average sized horse.

The two chariots sped off in different directions. The smaller one charged Sybaris and was driven by a young man with short, black hair and black eyes who wielded a spear twice the average size of a spear, pointed straight at Sybaris as if he planned to pierce the iron hide of the dragon.

The larger of the two chariots stopped just before Perseus who had drawn his sword, wary of any potential attack. A man stepped off from his chariot and glared intently at Perseus as if he were expecting Perseus to do something.

The man stood a few centimeters taller than Perseus. Like the younger man, he had shoulder-length black hair, the whitest skin Perseus had ever seen as if the man before him ha lived underground his entire life, and coal black eyes that seemed to gaze at your very soul and judged your worth, He had excellent posture, one befitting a lord, and wore elegant black garments that seemed to scream in horror that only a nobleman could possibly afford. In his left hand, he wielded a two-pronged battle staff as if he too was cautious of the man before him. He radiated a fear that unnerved even Sybaris who was the furthest creature from the man. Perseus, for some inexplicable reason, remained unaffected.

After a few moments of waiting, the man spoke, raising a perfect eyebrow, "Why is it, I wonder, that you do not show respect to a god?"

Perseus narrowed his eyes but spoke eloquently with the dangerous man as only a Lord of Persia could do, "Whether one is a god or some other powerful being, the rule of respect remains the same. It must be earned."

"Has the dead not earned respect, in your opinion? Should you not bow to the God of the Dead?" The man, Perseus now knew him as Hades, countered.

"I was unaware that you are a part of the honored dead. Had I known, I assure you, I would have shown you respect if, of course, you were a man who did honorable things in life," Perseus replied.

A small smile tugged on Hades's lips. Before Perseus could glimpse it however, Hades had turned away and with a wave of his hands, vanished the newly formed spartus. "That is my son. He is the one prophesied to end the life of Sybaris."

"With respect Lord Hades, I beg to differ. Prophecies are merely guides, they are not set in stone. Often, I have found them to be self-fulling because once you have heard the prophecy, you do your best to follow it. Of course, that is only if you are wise enough to know this," Perseus said.

"And how would you know this, mortal?" Almost as an afterthought, Hades added, "Do you call me unwise, mortal? I assure that that in itself in a most unwise choice."

"In my youth," Perseus began, "I was at the center of several prophecies all foretelling my imminent death for being the child of god who swore never to share a bed with a woman. He swore that oath, ironically enough, on the basis of a prophecy that another god had given him. Yet, here I am, fully well."

Perseus knew that the Greek gods were fully aware of the gods of other regions. While they maintained cordial diplomacy with the many other gods, having promised to never start a war, they did not converse or mate with them as decreed by Lady Chaos who had only once ever visited the current rulers of the Greek world to advise them of the rules and the consequences of breaking those rules.

Perseus continued, "I would never presume to tell a god that he is unwise. In any case, you know what I have told you of prophecies so how could you be considered unwise when you now hold this knowledge?"

Both Hades and Perseus snorted and looked at each other before smiling. They both shared the same thought that talking in such a formal way was utterly time consuming and mentally draining.

"You intrigue me, young demigod. I came here today only partially because of the prophecy. The other reason was you. I can sense all living things on this earth. Each and every one of them have a soul. I am capable of seeing all of them. All but yours. I have never had this happen before. Tell me, from which pantheon do you originate from?"

"The Persian pantheon. It faded several years ago." Perseus told Hades solemnly.

Hades nodded in respect to the gods who ruled in the era of the Titans, "My condolences. Like you, I know how it is to be alone. My own family despises me merely because I am master of the dead, darkness, and most things that they find eerie and irrational." Hades sounded bitter now.

"That merely shows how strong you are, Hades." The god in question turned to look at Perseus, a disbelieving expression crossing his face. "It shows that of all the gods in the Greek pantheon, you are the one with the greatest will power. It takes a strong man to remain sane in the face of the irrational. That you are still capable of coherent speech and thought is impressive considering the insanity that comes with your own domain. The Persian version of the Underworld was too great a mental strain for any single god to handle and so, it was ruled by a god, a demon, and numerous angels who were borderline evil."

Hades looked pleased with himself. He had never thought about it like that before. And when he compared himself to the Persian gods who defended their own territory from the Titans themselves at the height of their power, he was doubly pleased.

"Oh! Zoë!" Perseus exclaimed and whirled around only to find Zoë leaning against a dragon carcass, covered in black dragon blood.

Perseus blinked before a grin came to his face. _Whoops_. He hadn't meant to forget about Zoë but Hades was quite the interesting god to talk to.

"It seems that you were right. The girl ended up killing the dragon," Hades sounded surprised which Perseus could relate to. It wasn't often that a prophecy could completely be disregarded.

Before Perseus could take a step forward to congratulate Zoë on her success in killing Sybaris, the Hunters of Artemis and Zoë disappeared in a column of flames leaving behind a blinking god, an unconscious son, and a bewildered Persian.

"Where did Zoë go?" Perseus's voice sounded strangled. He couldn't believe that Zoë had vanished before his very eyes. He had been so startled that he hadn't moved to help her.

"Ah. That would be Ares kidnapping the Hunters of Artemis to once again try and take Artemis as a wife. I must say, he thought out his plan well this time to take the Hunters after having been injured. Unfortunately, he appears to have mistaken your friend for a Hunter of Artemis," Hades explained.

Perseus's eye twitched before a grim look of determination graced his features. He turned to Hades and asked, "Would you happen to know where Ares might be holding Zoë captive?"

Hades shook his head but just before Perseus turned to walk away, he added, "However, if you come with me to the Underworld, I can arrange a meeting with a goddess who may know where she is being held."

A nod later and Hades, his son, Perseus, and the dragon carcass disappeared in a vortex of shadows leaving nothing but a ruined mountain and a single thought behind.

_The bastard would pay for kidnapping Zoë!_

~A70 Ch13~

**A/N: I should have mentioned last chapter that the Hunters of Artemis are a relatively young group and as such, haven't fully developed their hated of men. I like Hades and thought it would be appropriate to put him in here, especially since we are entering the month of October.**


	14. To Plan a Rescue

~A70 Ch14~

To say that Zoë was having a bad day was like saying that Artemis was a goddess.

In other words, it was utterly ridiculous to even contemplate.

After having taken cover in a shelter of rocks where Perseus laughed at the Hunters' glaring, Perseus had had the gall to claim that he had orchestrated the entire event from kissing a maiden goddess and destroying a mountain to slaying one of the most feared monsters in Greece. Even if Perseus had known that Lamia was there (which he did), did he really have to do things in such an elaborate fashion that he earned the perpetual ire of one of the most feared goddesses in all Greece?

While Zoë would be the first to admit that Perseus could hold his own against any being whether they be divine, mortal, or monster, he would not be young forever. Eventually, when he reached old age, someone or something would could come to kill him. And they would succeed. That single thought worried Zoë more than she had ever been in her entire life.

But then, the blasted dragon had come. And that- that- that imbecile had left her to kill the dragon by herself! _Oh, how that bastard would pay dearly for this_, Zoë had thought furiously as she had avoided a deadly row of sharp, unnaturally pointy teeth. Thankfully, the Hunters of Artemis had offered their assistance.

As the fight had raged, she had noticed out of the corner of her eye while she avoided of a sweep of Sybaris's spiked tail that two chariots had emerged from the earth and one had charged the dragon without any regard for the remaining fighters battling Sybaris. Yet another imbecile, Zoë had thought bitterly.

The imbecile's spear had broken upon contact with Sybaris's scales. The man had screamed in fright as Sybaris had head-butted the black chariot. It had splintered into shrapnel upon contact with the earth, knocking the driver unconscious.

It was only then that Zoë had finally found another weakness. No, not the eyes, but the underbelly, a piece, of soft, scaleless flesh- a perfect target for her sword.

Peeling her hair clip from her hair and transforming it into the celestial bronze sword, Anaklusmos, Zoë had dashed forward before diving to avoid Sybaris's fiery breath. Once under, she had went to work, jabbing her sword near Sybaris's hind legs and slicing her open up to her neck, unintentionally covering herself in black blood. She had managed to get out from under Sybaris just before the dragon collapsed.

She had leaned against the dragon carcass to catch her breath. When she had heard her name being called, she had turned to smirk at her mentor only to vanish in a column of flames.

Now, Zoë was a prisoner along with the Hunters of Artemis who were shouting profanities that would surely have made Artemis cringe should she have been there with them in their prison.

The God of War, Ares, had kidnapped them, telling them that this was the only way he would win Artemis's hand in marriage. Through trickery and blackmail. Apparently, Aphrodite was not enough to satisfy him.

They were trapped in a hollow wall in one of the many temples dedicated to Ares. The walls were made entirely of Celestial Bronze, negating any and all divine powers within those four corners except for Ares's own, a fact that Ares lorded over them as they glared at the war god.

Their weapons had been taken, summoned by Ares through his power of Telumkinesis or a great control over weapons. Not a knife remained between the eleven of them. Zoë wondered if they should break themselves out or wait until someone rescued them. She hated not being in control of her own fate but there wasn't much she could do. The only person that Zoë wouldn't mind rescuing her was Perseus. No, she wouldn't mind him rescuing her one bit.

Zoë only hoped that Perseus would come soon before she or the Hunters decided to do something rash- like attack Ares the next time he came into the room.

...

The Underworld was a gloomy place. There was no getting around that particular fact. It was dark, sort of. The light was artificial and radiated from three places. Sunlight originated from Elysium and the Isle of the Blest. Hellfire, this particular brand of fire being red in color, illuminated the Fields of Punishment and multiple times a day, stray flames arced towards the synthetic atmosphere above the Underworld, lighting up the entire Underworld.

Perseus sighed as he paced within the room Hades had bequeathed him for the moment. Hades had claimed that Perseus's impatient strut was interrupting his concentration in contacting beings to assist him in locating Zoë though Perseus suspected he had been sent away because his purposeful steps echoed in the spacious parlor had grated on the god's nerves.

Perseus wondered why the Greek Lord of the Dead was helping him. It wasn't as if Hades owed him anything. Perseus supposed that being an enigma had its benefits- like obtaining the assistance of a god though Perseus shuddered when he thought about how he would have to repay Hades.

A rap on his wooden door interrupted Perseus from his musings. He opened the door only to find a skeleton dressed in a faded white toga motioning for him to follow before walking away.

The skeleton led him through the palace. The interior was a strange combination of sinisterness which Perseus attributed to Hades and cheerfulness which Perseus believed came from his wife. The walls were gray in color, Perseus figured that Hades and Persephone had quarreled over what color they should be painted but Persephone had had her way when he discovered all the different designs of flowers in varying shades of colors imprinted on the wall. Braziers glowed with a soft fire that illumined the halls of the palace.

Finally, the skeleton stopped just before two closed doors of normal size that Perseus had never seen before in his short stay in the palace of Hades. The skeleton motioned for him to enter before walking away to do whatever it was that skeletons do in an underground palace.

Perseus pushed the doors and found himself standing in a dining room. It was grand, with a large, elegant dining table made of the finest wood available.

Seated at the table were five beings, all radiating divine power though two of them were more powerful than the rest. Perseus recognized two of them, the first being his host, Hades, and the second being the goddess glaring at him, Artemis.

Perseus avoided her death glare and instead focused on the three unfamiliar goddesses. While the all three of them were infinitely beautiful, the first Perseus observed was slightly less beautiful as if the coldness of winter and the Underworld sapped her life force. She had curled, black hair, eyes drained of any and all color, and pale skin. She wore a simple white dress but no footwear as if she were used to the soft, moist earth squishing her feet rather than cold, black stone of the floor. The only thing that gave her away as Persephone was the tiara of leaves that adorned her head.

The second goddess was different in the respect that she appeared younger than any of the goddesses present and was bubbly. Her brown eyes glowed with cheer and a small smile danced across one side of her mouth as she made eye contact with Perseus.

The third goddess was, without a doubt, the strangest of everyone present. She wore silver robes embellished with magical runes and alchemic symbols that Perseus only vaguely recognized because he had once encountered an army of Egyptian Battle-Mages hell-bent on killing him. The goddess had blonde hair and green eyes nearing Perseus's own shade of green. Her lips were twisted in a grimace as if she were on the verge of scowling but only held back because of the two Olympians present.

Hades motioned for Perseus to take a seat and he did, sitting himself down several seats away from the immortals, wary of any possible threats not only from the gods but from any possible direction. It wasn't that he didn't trust Hades but he would rather not chance being attacked especially with the combined angry stares of Artemis and the magical goddess.

Hades stared at him pointedly until Perseus finally got up and sat down on another seat. Right next to the seat that he had previously occupied.

The cheerful goddess's lips twitched, fighting a losing battle in attempting not to smile while Artemis fought down the desire to yell at him. This was the only person alive other than Hades who knew what happened to her Hunters. She would yell at him after what she found out what happened. And then possibly castrate him for kissing her.

Finally, Perseus sat next in between the two immortals least likely to kill him, Persephone and the cheerful goddess.

"Perseus, this is Hecate, goddess of magic," Hades gestured to the goddess in silver robes. "Iris, goddess of rainbows," Hades pointed to the goddess on Perseus's left. "And, of course, my lovely wife, the Queen of the Underworld and goddess of springtime, Persephone," Hades touched the shoulders of his wife affectionately who was seated on his left and Perseus's right.

Perseus inclined his head in respect to each of the goddesses. It wouldn't do to anger any of the immortals without cause.

It was a moment before Hades spoke again, "Iris and Hecate are here to track down Ares who has hidden himself from the usual means of searching. He has hidden his godly aura from all as well as the traces of his last teleport."

"Has Ares kidnapped my Huntresses in an attempt to gain my hand in marriage yet again?" Artemis demanded.

Perseus blinked, "You mean to say that you did not take any precautions to prevent the kidnapping of your Huntresses the first time Ares kidnapped them? How unwise."

Artemis leapt out of her chair, her face flushing in both rage and embarrassment, "How dare-"

Hades cut her off, "Sit down, Artemis and restrain yourself while in my domain."

Growling, Artemis reluctantly did what she was told.

"Now then, Hecate, if you will please lock on to the faint energy signature Ares has left behind near the ruins of a mountain formerly known as Mount Kriphis," Hades asked politely.

Hecate rolled her eyes before closing them, presumably to do as Hades had asked. Artemis had the grace to look embarrassed. Perseus grinned wickedly.

"I have it," Hecate said after a few moments of silence.

"Excellent. Iris, if you would touch Hecate and project the message for all of us to view," Hades suggested.

Iris got up from her seat and walked until she was standing behind Hecate and placed her hand on her shoulder. Gods couldn't read the mind of other gods so for the iris message to work, contact was needed. It was, after all, a preliminary version that Iris hoped to perfect in the coming years.

Perseus scrunched his eyebrows as the message took form and revealed the outside of a temple. Coppery in color, it was a magnificent piece of architecture that stayed grounded, presumably to not anger the gods. In front of the closed temple was a simple garden; few flowers dotted the landscape and what vines that shrubbery that managed to grow on the walls was immediately trimmed so as not to blemish the radiance of the bronze temple.

"The Temple of Ares," Artemis hissed in disgust.

Perseus eyed the temple carefully. While there were statues (all of Ares), there was no guard that he could see. He saw no worshippers that entered or exited the temple.

Noticing Perseus's questioning look, Hades answered, "The Temple of Ares cannot be seen by mortal eyes unless a god has shown the temple to you. It is where Ares takes the many women he wishes to mate with whether they be mortal or immortal. The Celestial Bronze walls negates all powers within the temple."

Perseus blinked. A look of cold determination set in his sea-green eyes. His mouth twitched in anger before he took a deep breath and calmed himself. His expressions did not go by unnoticed by the immortals.

Perseus broke the silence first, "Any suggestions?"

"I will go to confront Ares," Artemis glanced at Perseus. "Alone."

"Denied," Perseus said flatly. "You lost that right when Zoë was captured."

Quicker than a flick of a sword, Artemis shot up from her seat, leaned over the table, and grabbed Perseus by his shirt, snarling, "You do not have a say in this, boy!"

Perseus yawned causing the only maiden goddess present to blink in astonishment. Then, he rolled his head towards Hades, "Can't you control your niece? I mean, I realize that many species of wolves are about to enter their breeding season but I have already committed to a rescue mission. I don't have time to copulate with this rather forward goddess."

The table exploded into laughter. With great reluctance, Artemis resisted the urge to strangle the boy, knowing that her uncle Hades would stop her long before she could deal him a slow, merciless death and withdrew to her seat, a frown marring her features.

She managed to capture Perseus's eye for a second. They would both be going to rescue their respective friend and sisters.

Perseus stood up from his seat now that business and embarrassment was concluded, "I trust that suitable transportation will be arranged for tomorrow?"

Hades nodded his head.

"We will go today!" Artemis declared.

Perseus shook his head. "I am tired from dealing with Lamia and you are drained of your energy for whatever reason that might be as well as being distracted. We will rest and restore our energy before leaving. I trust you have enough sense to recognize the logic in this move?"

Artemis was content to remain silent and release her most devastating glare at him. It was said to make mortals tremble in fear and in the cases of men, drop dead where they stood. To her dismay, it didn't seem to work on Perseus.

As Perseus headed out the door to rest in his room, a thought struck him so he turned around and addressed Artemis, "Oh and Artemis? I should be available the day after tomorrow."

Winking at the maiden goddess, Perseus turned around and walked out, grinning.

"He's certainly not lacking in courageousness," Hecate commented after a moment of stunned silence, sparking a burst of laughter from the rest of the gods save Artemis.

Artemis would spend the rest of the night thinking of ways to torture Perseus.

...

"These pearls will allow you to exit the Underworld to wherever you need to go. Merely think of the place you desire to be and crush the pearl with your foot," Persephone handed Artemis and Perseus a pearl each.

"I don't mean to sound ungrateful but aren't pearly supposed to be more...pearly in color?" Perseus asked, examining the green pearl in his hands.

Artemis shot him a look, "Pearly? Really?"

Perseus shrugged, "Give me a break. I think I picked up this language rather well for a foreigner who had no tutor but books."

Hades interrupted before Artemis could reply, "You would have to ask Poseidon. One of my children stole these pearls from one of his children when he was found in the Underworld. Now, good luck."

Sensing the obvious dismissal, they stepped on their pearls and thought of the Temple of Ares. A moment later, two bubbles surrounded them before they disappeared.

A few minutes later, they appeared before a grand temple, seemingly deserted by any worshippers. It was one of the most beautiful temples in all Greece.

It was a shame that Artemis and Perseus both agreed that the temple would be obliterated before the end of the day.

Not that they expressed their desires to each other.

Artemis held up a finger to her lips, silently telling Perseus to keep quiet and moved forward to the entrance of the temple. Perseus followed her, figuring that the Goddess of the Hunt would be an expert in stealth.

Artemis had only just placed her foot on the first step leading upwards to the temple when two bright flashes of light appeared, signaling the arrival of two gods.

They were both gods. They had the same appearances, black hair and fiery eyes. There were a few differences between the twins. One was huge and muscly, with scars covering his face and a sword at his hip. The other was lean and smaller than his brother. He was much handsomer than his brother. They were Deimos and Phobos, respectively, the gods of terror and fear.

"Do not look at them in the eyes!" Artemis shouted.

But it was too late. Deimos had already cast his spell of terror on the goddess and Persian, rendering them immobilized.

Artemis struggled valiantly but to no avail. Already, she was experiencing the greatest of her terrors. Her Huntresses all being ravaged and desacrated by some unknown group of enemies. She was powerless to stop the enemies and could not even teleport her Huntresses to safety. She shuddered as a faceless man came up to her and stroked her cheek with a grimy finger. She bit back a scream as the men slowly began to unclothe themselves before turning to her and her Huntresses.

But it was Perseus who experienced full brunt of terror and horror. He experienced something he had already experienced, something that while he wished to never forget, he also desired not to ever face again.

His past.

~A70 Ch14~

**Sorry for the long wait. Yes, I used movie version pearls since they were more useful to me.**

**To the guest who asked about Campione!: Yes, I have watched it and believe it to be an excellent anime. It's also where I based Perseus's inherited powers from though those powers are in actual mythology.**

**Finally, yes, I will be moving to the past. Now I gotta think of a backstory though I already have a semblance of what to write.**

**Thanks for reading!**


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